I LIBRARY OF (^ONGRESS. I 



# ■ ■--..- .^ 

JUNITED STATES OF A'MERICA. f 



VAGABOND LIFE 



IN 



MEXICO. 



GABRIEL FERRY, 

FOB SETBN YEAES RESIDENT IN THAT COUNTBV. 



J 




NEW YORK; 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 

1856. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

PERICO, THE MEXICAN VAGABOND " 

FRAY SEEAPIO, THE FRANCISCAN MONK 4T 

DON TADEO CRISTOBAL, THE THIEVES' LAWYER OF MEXICO.. 90 

REMIGIO VASQUEZ 128 

THE MINERS OF RAYAS • I'^'f 

CAPTAIN DON BLAS AND THE SILVER CONVOY 21T 

THE JAROCHOS 277 

THE PILOT VENTURA 314 



VAGABOND LIFE IN MEXICO. 



CHAPTER I. 

The Jamaica and Mount Parnassus. 

Mexico is the most beautiful city ever built by the 
Spaniards in the New World ; and even in Europe it 
would take a high place for splendor and magnificence. 
If you wish to behold the magnificent and varied pan- 
orama which Mexico presents, you have only to mount 
at sunset one of the towers of the Cathedral. On 
whatever side you turn your eye, you see before you 
the serrated peaks of the Cordilleras, forming a gi- 
gantic azure belt of about sixty leagues in circumfer- 
ence. To the south, the two volcanoes which overtop 
the other peaks of the sierra raise their majestic sum- 
mits, covered with eternal snow, which, in the even- 
ing sun, put on a pale purple hue flecked with delicate 
ruby. The one, Popocatapetl (smoking mountain), is 
a perfect cone, dazzling in the blue vault of heaven ; 
the other, Iztaczihuatl (the white woman), has the ap- 
pearance of a nymph reclining, who lifts her icy shoul- 
ders to receive the last beams of the dying sun. At 
the foot of the two volcanoes gleam two lakes, like 
mirrors, which reflect the clouds in their waters, and 
where the wild swan plays its merry gambols. To the 
west rises an immense pile of building, the palace of 



6 ARCHITECT URiVL BEAUTY OF MEXICO. 

Chapultepec, once the abode of the old viceroys of 
New Spain. Round the mountain on which it is built 
stretches, in a long, waving belt of verdure, a forest of 
cedars more than a thousand years old. A fountain 
bubbles forth at the top of the mountain ; its brawling 
waters leap down into the valley, where they are re- 
ceived into an aqueduct, and thus conducted into a 
large and populous city, to supply the wants of its in- 
habitants. Villag-es, steeples, and cupolas rise on all 
sides from the bottom of the valley. Dusty roads 
cross and recross one another like gold stripes on a 
green ground, or like runnels of water inter branching 
through the country. A tree, peculiar to Peru, the 
weeping willow of the sandy plains, bends its long, 
interlaced branches, loaded with odoriferous leaves and 
red berries, in the evening breeze, and a solitary palm- 
tree rises here and there above clumps of olives with 
their pale-green foliage. 

But these are only the grand outlines of the picture. 
Turn your eye upon the city, or, rather, look at your 
feet. In the midst of the chess-board formed by the 
terraces of houses, and from among the flowers with 
Avhich these are adorned, you will see rising, as from 
an immense bouquet, spires, churches with domes of 
yellow and blue tiling, houses with walls stained with 
various colors, and balconies hung with a kind of 
striped cotton, which give them a trim and jaunty ap- 
pearance. On one of the four sides of the Plaza Mayor 
(great square) the Cathedral towers majestically aloft. 
This magnificent edifice overtops the turrets of the 
president's palace, a building devoid of all pretensions 
to architectural beauty, and now falling to decay. It 
is ail immense pile, inclosing within its four walls the 
public offices of the government, o prison, two bar- 



LIFE IN MEXICO. 7 

racks, a botanic garden, and the legislative chambers. 
This palace occupies a whole side of the square. The 
Ayuntarniento (Municipality) and the Postal de las 
Jlores, an immense market, form the third side. The 
Parian, a market similar to the preceding, completes 
the fourth. Thus the legislative and executive power, 
the board of works, commerce — all the departments of 
the Mexican government, in short, are in one building, 
and seem as if grouped together under the shadow of 
the church. The people are there also ; for the streets 
of St. Domingo, of St. Francisco, of Tacuba, of Mon- 
naie, of Monterilla, all arteries of the great city, pour 
into the Plaza Mayor a flood of human beings, which 
is always changing, and ever in motion, and you have 
only to mix in this crowd for a few moments to get 
acquainted with Mexican life in all its diversified pha- 
ses of vice and virtue, of splendor and misery. 

When the hour of the Angelus approaches especial-, 
ly, horsemen, foot-passengers, and carriages are packed 
together in disorderly confusion, and gold, silk, and 
rags, mingled here and there, give to the crowd a gro- 
tesque and startling appearance. The Indians are re- 
turning to their villages, the populace to the suburbs. 
The ranchero makes his horse prance and curvet in 
the midst of the passengers, who are in no hurry to 
get out of his way ; the aquador (water-carrier), whose 
day's work is over, crosses the square, bending under 
the weight of his chochocol of porous earthenware ; the 
officer is bending his steps to the coffee-houses or gam- 
bling-tables, where he intends to spend the evening; 
the non-commissioned officer clears the way for him- 
self with a vine-tree-staff, which he carries in his hand 
as a badge of his rank. The red petticoat of the 
townswoman is in glaring contrast with the saya and 



8 EELIGIOUS RITES IN MEXICO. 

black mantilla of the fashionable lady, who holds her 
fan over her face to shade it from the departing rays 
of the sun. Monks of all colors flit through the crowd 
in every direction. Here \ki<& jpadre^ with his huge hat 
a la JBasile, elbows the Franciscan in his blue gown, 
silken cord, girdle, and large white felt hat ; there^ 
goes the Dominican in his lugubrious costume of black 
and white, reminding one of Torquemada, the founder 
of the Inquisition ; farther on, the brown drugget of 
the Capuchin contrasts with the white flowing robes 
of the Brother of Mercy. Incidents of different kinds 
occur continually in this motley crowd, and serve to 
keep one's attention alive. Sometimes, as the drum 
in the barracks are beating a salute, the folding doors 
of a sagrario* suddenly fly open, and there issues 
forth a carriage splendidly gilt, the slow toll of the 
bell is heard along with the harsh rattle of the drum, 
and the whole crowd uncover, and kneel with bent 
head to the holy sacrament which they are carrying 
to a dying man. Woe betide the foreigner, though 
bold and resolute, who, ignorant of the profound re- 
spect which the Mexican pays to his religious rites, 
fails to bow the knee to the host as it passes ! Some- 
times a military detachment of six officers, escorted by 
three soldiers and preceded by a dozen musicians, is 
seen marching into the square in all the majesty of 
military pomp ; it is to proclaim a bando (law or edict) 
of the highest authority, for which all this display of 
military music and brocaded uniforms is deemed nec- 
essary. Such at this time of the evening is the gen- 
eral appearance of the Plaza Mayor, that square where 
the people of Mexico, the sovereign people (as their 
flatterers call them), flutter in rags, ceaselessly en- 
* Sagrario, the part in a church where the host is kept. 



THE PLAZA MAYOE. 9 

gaged in quest of a new master who can put down the 
master of the night before, quite indifferent as to polit- 
ical principles, mistaking disorder for liberty, and nev- 
er suspecting that the continual assaults of anarchy 
may bring down one day the worm-eaten structure of 
their rotten republic, although it has not been in ex- 
istence more than twenty-five years. 

Every evening, however, at the first peals of the 
Angelus, all noise ceases, as if by enchantment, in the 
Plaza Mayor. The crowd becomes hushed and silent. 
When the last toll of the bell dies away, the din re- 
commences. The crowd disperses in every direction, 
carriages rattle off, horsemen gallop away, foot-passen- 
gers hurry hith-er and thither, but not always nimbly 
enough to escape the sword or lasso of the bold thieves 
who murder or rob their hapless victims, and whose 
audacity is such that, even in open day, and with 
crowds looking on, they have been known to commit 
their crimes.* At nightfall the square is deserted ; a 
few promenaders scurry along in the moonlight ; others 
remain seated, or swing lazily upon the iron chains, 
which, separated by granite pillars, run round the sa- 
grario. The day is past, the scenes of the night begin, 
and the leperos become for a few hours masters of the 
city. 

The lepero is a type, and that the strangest, of Mex- 
ican society. The attentive observer, who has seen 
Mexico stirring with the joyous excitement that pre- 
cedes the Oracion, and then abandoned to the ill-omen- 



'^ A journal, "Siglio XIX." of the 11th November, 1845, contains 
in its columns a petition addressed to the Ayuntamiento upon the sub- 
ject of certain thieves, who, not content with the evening, had chosen 
midday for the exercise of their calUng. The petition and answer of 
the municipal council are alike curious. 

A 2 



10 THE MEXICAN VAGABOND. 

ing silence which the night brings on, can alone tell 
what is singular and formidable in the character of this 
Mexican lazzarone. At once brave and cowardly- 
calm and violent, fanatic and incredulous, with just 
such a belief in God as to have a wholesome terror for 
the devil, a continual gambler, quarrelsome by nature, 
with a sobriety only equaled by the intemperance to 
which he sometimes delivers himself, the lepero can 
accommodate himself to every turn of fortune, as his 
humor or idleness inclines him. Porter, stone-mason, 
teamster, street-pa vior, hawker, the lepero is every thing 
at different times. A thief sometimes by inclination, 
he practices his favorite calling every where, in the 
churches, at processions, and in theatres ; his life is 
only one struggle with justice, which is not herself safe 
from his larcenies. Lavish when he finds himself mas- 
ter of a little money, he is not the less resigned or 
courageous when he has none. Has he gained in the 
morning a sufficiency for the expenses of the day ? he 
drops work immediately. Often his precarious re- 
sources fail him entirely. Tranquil then, and sub- 
missive, and careless about thieves, he wraps himself 
in his torn cloak, and lies down at the corner of the 
pavement or in a doOr-way. There, rattling his, jar ana 
(a little mandolin), and looking with stoical serenity at 
the j>ulqueria (public-house), where he has no credit, 
he listens distractedly to the hissing of some savory 
stew which they are preparing for some more favored 
being, tightens the belt round his stomach, and, after 
breakfasting off a sunbeam, he sups off a cigar, and 
sleeps quietly without thinking of the morrow. 

I will confess my weakness: among this motley 
crowd, idle and brawling as it was, my attention was 
more engaged with the miserable tatterdemalions than 



FRAY SERAPIO, THE FEANCISCAN MONK. 11 

with the well-dressed foot-passengers, as the former 
seemed to afford a truer index of Mexican society than 
the latter. I never met, for instance, a lepero, in all 
the picturesqueness of his tattered costume, without 
having a strong desire to become better acquainted 
with this Bohemian-like class, who reminded me fre- 
quently of the more uncommon heroes of Picaresque 
romance. It appeared to me a curious study to com- 
pare this filthy and ragged denizen of the great towns 
with the savage adventurers I had met in the woods 
and savannas. When I first came to live in Mexico, 
I sought, and succeeded in getting acquainted, through 
the kindness of a Franciscan monk, a friend of mine, 
with a thorough-hred lepero, called Perico the Zara- 
gate.* Unhappily, our acquaintance had hardly com- 
menced, when, for very good reasons, I was resolved 
to break it, for I only got the scantiest information from 
him about his class, and the number of piastres I was 
forced to pay him was so considerable as to induce me 
to reflect strongly upon the absurdity of taking such 
expensive lessons. I was resolved, then, to bring ray 
studies with him to a conclusion, when, one morning. 
Fray Serapio, the worthy monk who had made me ac- 
quainted with Perico, entered my apartment. 

"I came to ask you," said the Franciscan, " to go 
with me to a bull-fight at the Necatitlan Square ; there 
will also be a Jamaica and a Monte Parnaso^ which 
will be an additional inducement." 

" What is a Jamaica and a Monte Parnaso ?" 

" You will know that immediately. Let us set out ; 
it is nearly eleven, and we shall be scarcely there in 
time to get a good place." 

I could never resist the attraction of a bull-fight, 

* Zaragate, a rogue of the most dangerous kind. 



12 THE SUBURBS OF MEXICO. 

and I found an advantage in having the company of 
Fray Serapio while traversing in security those sub- 
urbs which surround Mexico in a formidable belt. 
The neighborhood of the Necatitlan Square is more 
dreaded than any, and it is almost always dangerous 
to appear there in a European garb ; indeed, I never 
passed through it alone without uneasiness. The cowl 
of the monk would be a safeguard to me in my Euro- 
pean dress. I accepted his oiFer with pleasure, and 
we set out. For the first time, I viewed with a tran- 
quil mind the narrow, dirty, and unpaved streets, the 
blackened houses full of cracks running over the walls 
in all directions, lurking-places of the thieves and rob- 
bers who ply their calling on the streets, and who 
sometimes even break into houses in the city. Swarms 
of one-eyed leperos, their faces cut and scarred with 
the knife, were drinking, whistling, and shouting in the 
taverns, clad in dirty cotton clothes, or enveloped in 
their Ji'asadas.* Their wives, dressed in tatters, stood 
in the doorways, watching their naked children, who 
were sporting in the mud, and laughing and shouting 
merrily. In passing through these haunts of cut- 
throats, the terror of the police, the judge mutters a 
prayer, the alcalde crosses himself, the corchete (bailiff) 
and the regidor shuffle humbly along with downcast 
eye but watchful look, and the honest man shudders, 
but the monk stalks along with lofty brow and serene 
face, and the creak of his sandals is more respected 
there than tlie clink of the celador's sabre ; sometimes, 
even, like tame tigers who recognize their master, the 
bandits emerge from their lurking-plac«s, and come 
and kiss his hand. 

* A blanket of comnv^n wool, differing in that respect only from the 
serwpe. 



A MEXICAN CIRCUS. 13 

The Necatitlan Square presented an appearance at 
once strange and novel. On one side, where the sun 
darted his unpitying rays upon the palcos de sol* 
stood the people, with cloaks and rehozos hung over 
their heads as a shade, clustered in noisy, animated 
groups on the steps of the circus, and keeping up a 
lively concert of whistling and groaning. On the shady 
side, the nodding plumes of the officers' hats, and the 
variegated silk shawls of the ladies, presented to the 
eye an appearance which contrasted strongly with the 
wretchedness. and misery of the rabble in the palcos 
de sol. I had witnessed bull-fights a hundred times. 
I had seen this dirty mass of people, wearied and ex- 
hausted in body, but with as keen a relish for slaugh- 
ter as ever, their tongues sticking to the roofs of their 
mouths, and their throats dry and parched as the sand, 
when the setting sun darted his long rays through the 
ill-joined boards of the amphitheatre, and when the 
scent of the blood lured the hungry vultures who were 
sailing in the air above, but I never saw the arena so 
transformed as it was at that time. Numerous wood- 
en erections fiUed the space ordinarily devoted to the 
bull-fights; these, covered with grass, flowers, and 
sweet-smelling branches of trees, made the whole place 
assume the appearance of a vast hall, growing, as it 
were, out of the ground, and forming a series of shady 
groves, with paths winding through them. Little 
booths were dispersed here and there through the 
groves, some intended for the preparation of delicate 
articles of Mexican cookery, others for the sale of cool, 
refreshing drinks. In the cookery booths you could 
indulge in the luxury of nameless ragouts of pork, sea- 
soned with pimenta. In the puestosf glittered im- 

* Those parts of the circus erposed to the sun. t Portable shops. 



14 PEEICO, THE MEXICAN VAGABOND. 

mense glasses filled with beverages of all the colors in 
the rainbow, red, green, blue, and yellow. The mob 
in the palcos de sol snuiFed up greedily the nauseous 
smell of the fat pork, while others, more lucky, seated 
in this improvised elysium, under the shade of the 
trees, discussed pates of the wild duck of the lakes. 

" Look !" said the Franciscan, pointing with his fin- 
ger to the throng seated at the tables in the ring; 
" that's what we call a Jamaica.'''' 

"And that?" said I, showing him a tree five or six 
yards high, fixed in the ground, with all its leaves, in 
the middle of the arena, quite covered with handker- 
chiefs of every hue, which fluttered from the branches. 

" That is a Monte Parnaso,'''' said the Franciscan. 

" Probably poets are to ascend it ?" 

"No; but leperos, and such like uneducated per- 
sons — which will be a great deal more diverting." 

The monk had hardly given me this answer, which 
but half enlightened me, when cries of toro^ toro, from 
the rabble in the palcos de sol became louder and more 
overpowering ; the pastry cooks' booths and the pues- 
tos were suddenly deserted ; the revelers were sudden- 
ly interrupted by the sudden rush of a band of leperos 
from the highest boxes round the inclosure, who, slid- 
ing down by means of their cloaks, made a terrific on- 
slaught on the green booths inside. Among the crowd 
who were yelling and kicking down the booths, and 
strewing the whole ring with their remains, I recog- 
nized my old friend Perico. Indeed, without him the 
fete would have been incomplete. The Monte Parna- 
so, with its cotton handkerchiefs, stood alone in the 
midst of the wreck, and soon became the only object 
to which the looks and aims of the rabble were direct- 
ed. All tried to be the first to ascend the tree, and 



PEKICO AND THE BULL. 15 

get possession of such handkerchiefs as took their fan- 
cy ; but the struggles of the one impeded the efforts of 
the other ; the tree still remained standing, and not a 
single claimant had yet succeeded in even touching its 
trunk. At the same moment the bugle sounded in the 
box of the alcalde, the door of the toril was thrown 
open, and a magnificent bull, the best that the neigh- 
boring haciendas could furnish, came thundering into 
the arena. The spectators, who expected a more for- 
midable animal, were somewhat disappointed when 
they saw an emholado* The aspiring laureates of 
Monte Parnaso were nevertheless somewhat scared 
and frightened. The bull, after standing with some 
hesitation, bounded with a gallop toward the tree, which 
was still standing. Some of the leperos ran away, and 
the others took refuge, one after another, in the branch- 
es of Monte Parnaso. The bull, having come to the 
foot of the tree, butted at it with repeated blows of his 
horns ; it tottered ; and at the very moment Perico 
was busily engaged in reaping an abundant harvest of 
pocket-handkerchiefs, it fell, dragging with it the men 
who were entangled in the branches. Eoars of laugh- 
ter and enthusiastic cheering arose from the ten thou- 
sand spectators in the galleries and boxes at sight of 
the unfortunate wretches, who, bruised and lamed, were 
seeking to escape from each other's grasp, and from the 
branches in which they were entangled. To add to the 
confusion, the bull, seeking no doubt to separate the 
black mass struggling on the ground, butted several 
of the unfortunate leperos with his horns, and, to my 
great sorrow, I saw Perico, launched ten feet into the 
air, fall to the ground in such a state of insensibility 
as to deprive me of all hope of completing my studies 
of Mexican life under so skillful a master. 

* A bull with a ball on each horn. 



16 PERICO VISITED BY THE MONK. 

Perico had been scarcely carried out of the arena 
when cries of "a priest^ a priest!" were raised by a 
hundred voices. Fray Serapio crouched in a corner of 
his box, but he could not avoid the duty which the 
people expected from him. He rose, gravely cloaking 
his disappointment as much as he could from the eyes 
of the people, and said to me, in a low tone, 

" Follow me ; you will pass for a surgeon." 

" Are you joking ?" said I. 

" Not at all ; if the fellow is not quite dead, he will 
have a surgeon and a priest of equal merit." 

I followed the monk with a gravity at least equal to 
his own, and while descending the stairs of the amphi-^ 
theatre, the laughter and loud hurrahs of the populace 
proved that the people in the shade, as well as the rab- 
ble in the sun, viewed the accident as an every-day 
occurrence. We were conducted into a little dark 
room on the ground floor of a house, from which issued 
several lobbies leading to different apartments. In a 
corner of this room Perico was laid, having been pre- 
viously deprived of all his handkerchiefs ; then, partly 
through respect for the Church and the faculty, so wor- 
thily represented by both of us, partly lest they should 
lose the spectacle of the fight, the attendants withdrew 
and left us alone. The lepero, his head leaning against 
the wall, and giving no sign of life, was seated rather 
than reclining; his motionless arms, and his pale, 
corpse-like face, showed that, if life had not quite fled, 
there was but a slender spark remaining. We looked 
at each other, the Franciscan and I, quite at a loss 
what to do in the circumstances. 

"I think," said I to the monk, " that it would per- 
haps be best to give him absolution." 

'■'■Absolvo ^e," said Fray Serapio, touching roughly 



PEEICO'S CONFESSION. " 17 

the lepero's foot. He appeared sensible to this mark 
of interest, and muttered, half opening his eyes, 

" I believe in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
— Ah ! the rascals have taken all my handkerchiefs — 
Senor Padre, I am a dead man. 

" Not yet, my son," said the monk ; " but perhaps 
there only remains for you sufficient time to confess 
your sins ; and it would be best for you to profit by 
it, that I may open to you the folding doors of heaven. 
I warn you that I am in a hurry." 

" Is the bull-fight not over, then ?" said poor Perico, 
naively. " I think," said he, passing his hands over 
his body, "that I am not so ill as you imagine." 

Then, seeing me, Perico shut his eyes, as if he were 
going to faint, and added, in a very low voice, 

" Indeed I am ill, very ill ; and if you please to 
listen to my confession, I will soon finish it." 

" Go on, then, my son." 

The monk then kneeled down close to the sick man, 
who, to speak the truth, bore no trace on his body of 
a single wound. Taking ofi* his large gray hat, Peri- 
co brought his lips near the ear of the monk, and I, 
not to interrupt the lepero, stepped aside. He began 
thus : 

" I accuse myself first, father, of the blackest in- 
gratitude to this cavalier, in that I took from him so 
much money — and would have taken more if I could 
— and I hope he will bear no ill feeling toward me on 
that account, for at heart I sincerely loved him." 

I bowed in token of forgiveness. 

" I accuse myself also, father; of having stolen the 
gold watch of Sayosa, the judge in the criminal court, 
the last time I appeared before him." 

"How was that, my son ?" 



18 PElilCO'y CONFESSION. 

" The Lord Sayosa was imprudent enough to put 
his hand into his pocket for his watch, and to express 
his regret and surprise that he had left both it and his 
gold chain at home. I said to myself then, if I am not 
executed for this, that will be a good stroke of busi- 
ness for me. Ignorant that any thing like this acci- 
dent would befall me, I gave a hint to a friend of mine 
who was at that moment set at liberty. I ought to tell 
you that my lord judge has a weakness for turkeys." 

" I don't understand you, my son." 

"All in good time, father. My confederate bought 
a splendid turkey, and hastened to present it to the 
wife of my Lord Sayosa, saying that her husband had 
ordered him to give it her ; my lord judge entreated 
her at the same time, added my friend, to deliver to 
the bearer his gold watch and chain that he had for- 
gotten at home. It was thus the watch — " 

" That's serious, my soji." 

" I did worse than that, father ; the day after, I 
stole from the judge's lady while her husband was at 
court." 

" What, my son ?" 

" The turkey, father. You see one does not like to 
lose any thing," muttered Perico, in a doleful tone. 
The monk could scarcely restrain himself from laugh- 
ing outright at the confession of the lepero. 

"And why," said Fray Serapio, in a shaking tone 
of voice, " were you at the bar before my Lord Judge 
Sayosa ?" 

" A trifle, father. A citizen in the town (his name 
needn't be mentioned) had engaged me to take venge- 
ance on a person who had offended him. The man was 
pointed out to me whom I was to strike. He was a 
young, handsome cavalier, easily recognizable by a 



PERICO'S CONFESSION. 19 

long narrow scar above his right eyebrow. I placed 
myself in ambuscade at the door of a house which he 
was accustomed to enter every night before orisons. 
I saw him, in fact, enter the house pointed out to me. 
Niglit came on. I waited. Two hours passed. There 
was not a single person in the street, which was silent 
as the grave. The person I was waiting for had not 
yet appeared. I was curious to see what kept him so 
long. The apartment in which I thought he was was 
on the ground floor. I crept slowly up to it, and look- 
ed through the bars of a window that had been left 
open probably on account of the heat." 

Perico, in continuing his confession, either from weak- 
ness or some other motive, seemed to do it unwilling- 
ly, as if he could not brook the ascendency which 
Fray Serapio had over him. The lepero unveiled his 
thoughts like one in a state of mesmeric sleep, who is 
obliged to act according to the will of the manipulator. 
I asked the monk by a look whether I should stay or 
retire. His glance urged me to stay. 

"Beneath a picture of all the saints," continued 
Perico, " slept an old woman wrapped up to the eyes 
in her rebozo. The handsome cavalier, whom I recog- 
nized, was seated on a sofa. Kneeling before him, her 
head on his knees, was a young and beautiful woman, 
her eyes fixed upon his, beaming with the most ardent 
devotion. The young man was stripping the leaves 
off a full-blown rose that he had taken from the tor- 
toise-shell comb in the hair of the fair dame, whose head 
was on his knees. I saw clearly now why the time 
had seemed to him so short. Perhaps the feeling of 
compassion which rose in my bosom will be placed to 
my credit aloft, for I felt quite sorry at being forced to 
bring this sweet romance to a rough conclusion." 



20 PEKICO'S CONFESiSiOJN. 

"Did you kill him, then, you wretch?" cried the 
monk. 

" I sat down in the shade on the pavement, with my 
face to the door. I pitied the poor fellow, was quite 
discouraged, and slept at my post. The creaking of 
a door awoke me from my slumbers ; a man came out. 
I said to myself then that my word of honor had been 
given, and my feelings of compassion must be crushed. 
I arose. A second after, I was on the traces of the 
unknown. The sound of a piano came stealing from 
the window, which was now closed. ' Poor girl ! ' said 
I, 'your lover has seen his last hour, and you are 
playing ! ' I struck — the man fell ! " 

Perico stopped and sighed. 

" Had grief dimmed my sight ?" said he, after a 
short silence. " The rays of the moon fell full upon 
the face of the poor fellow. It was not my man. I 
had done my duty, however ; I had been paid to kill 
a man. I had killed him. And my conscience qui- 
eted on this score, I set about cutting off a lock of hair 
from the head of the unknown, in order to convince 
my employer that I had fulfilled my mission. 'All 
men's hair is of the. same color,' said I to myself. I 
was again deceived ; the man I had killed was an En- 
glishman, and had hair red as a ripe pimenta. The 
handsome cavalier still lived. Chagrined at my dis- 
appointment, I blasphemed the holy name of God, and 
that is what I accuse myself of, holy father." 

Perico beat his breast, while the Franciscan showed 
him the blackness of the latter crime of which he Avas 
guilty, passing very slightly over the former, for the 
life of a man, an English heretic above all, is of very 
little importance in the eyes of the least enlightened 
rlass of the Mexican people, of which the monk anci 



REST IN PEACE. 21 

the lepero were two very distinct types. Fray Scra- 
pie finished his exhortation by administering hastily 
to Perico an absolution in Latin, worthy of Moliere's 
comedies. He then said, in good Spanish, 

" AU you have got to do now is to ask pardon of 
this cavalier for having fleeced him so often, which he 
will willingly grant, seeing that it is very improbable 
that you will lay him again under contribution, at least 
for a long time." 

The lepero turned to me, and, in as languishing a 
tone as he could assume, 

"I am a double-dyed rascal," said he, "and shall 
only consider myself completely absolved if you will 
pardon me for the unworthy tricks that I have played 
upon you. I am going to die, Senor Cavalier, and I 
have not the wherewithal to bury me. My wife must 
be told of my situation, and it will be a great comfort to 
her if she find something in my pocket to pay for my 
shroud. God will reward you for it, Seiior Cavalier." 

" In truth," said the monk, "you can hardly refuse 
the poor devil this favor, as they are the last piastres 
he will cost you." 

"God grant it I" said I, not thinking about the cruel- 
ty of the wish, and I emptied my purse into Perico's 
outstretched hand. He shut his eyes, let his head fall 
upon his breast, and said no more. 

'■'- Reguiescat in pace P'' said Fray Serapio ; "the 
sports must be far advanced by this time. I can be 
of no farther use here." 

We went out. After aU, said I to myself in leav- 
ing the circus, this recital has been the most curious 
revelation I have yet got from the Zaragate. Such a 
confession as this is ample amends for the drafts upon 
nxj purse which this singular personage has made. Be- 



22 THE ALAMEDA OF MEXICO. 

sides, this would be the last lesson the lepero would 
ever give me ; and, with this thought in my mind, I 
could not help pitying the poor wretch. I was wrong, 
however, as will be seen in the sequel, in thinking that 
I would have no more dealings with my master Perico. 



CHAPTER II. 

The Alameda.* — The Paseo of Bucarcli. 

Theee are few towns in Mexico which can not boast 
of having an Alameda ; and, as generally happens in 
the capital city, that of Mexico is decidedly the finest. 
There is no promenade of this sort in Paris. Hyde 
Park in London most nearly resembles it. The Ala- 
meda of Mexico forms a long square, surrounded by a 
wall breast high, at the bottom of which runs a deep 
ditch, whose muddy waters and offensive exhalation 
mar the appearance of this almost earthly paradise. 
An iron gate at each of its corners affords admission to 
carriages, horsemen, and pedestrians. Poplars, ash- 
trees, and willows bend their branches over the prin- 
cipal drive, and afford a leafy shade to the occupants 
of the carriages and equestrians for whom this beauti- 
fully level road is appropriated. Alleys, converging 
into large common centres, ornamented with fountains 
and jets d^eau, interpose their clumps of myrtles, roses, 
and jasmines between the carriages and the pedestri- 
ans, whose eyes can follow, through the openings in 
those odoriferous bushes, the luxurious equipages and 
prancing steeds caracoling round the Alameda. The 

* Alameda, a general name for a public walk ; literally, a place 
planted with poplars, alamos. 



THE ALAMEDA OF MEXICO. 23 

noise of the wheels, muffled by the sand on the drive, 
scarcely reaches the ear, mingled as it is with the mur- 
mur of the water, the sighing of the wind through the 
evergreen leafage, and the buzzing of bees and hum- 
ming-birds. The gilded carriage of the country and 
the plain European chariot are continually passing each 
other, and the gaudy trappings of the Mexican horses 
contrast strongly with the unaffected plainness of the 
English saddle, which wears a shabby appearance in 
the midst of this Oriental luxury. The ladies of fash- 
ion have laid aside for the promenade the saya and 
7nantilla, to wear dresses which are only six months 
behind the last Parisian mode. Stretched in dreamy 
languor on their silk cushions, they allow their feet, 
the pride and admiration of Europeans, to remain in 
shoes, alas ! ill fitted for them. The sorry appearance 
of their feet is hidden when in the carriages, through 
the open window of which you can only see their dia- 
dems of black hair, decorated with natural flowers, 
their seductive smile, and their gestures, in which vi- 
vacity and listlessness are so pleasingly blended. The 
fan is kept in a perpetual flutter at the carriage window, 
and speaking its own mysterious language. Swarms 
of pedestrians present a spectacle not less piquant ; 
and the sad-colored garments of the Europeans are 
seen less frequently here than the variegated costumes 
of America. 

After taking a few turns, the carriages quit the Ala- 
meda, the horsemen accompany them, and the whole 
crowd saunters dkrelessly past a strongly-grated win- 
dow, which hangs over the path you must traverse be- 
fore reaching a promenade called the Paseo of Buca- 
reli.* One can hardly tell what hideous scenes are 

* The name of the viceroy who presented it to the town. 



24 EVENING IN MEXICO. 

daily exhibited there behind this rusty iron grating, 
not two paces from the most fashionable promenade in 
Mexico : this is the window of the Mexican Morgue, 
where the dead bodies are exposed. Justice only dis- 
plays her anxiety at the moment when the dead bodies 
of men and women are thrown together in one promis- 
cuous heap on its floor, some half naked, others still 
bleeding. Every day there is a new succession of vic- 
tims. As for the Paseo, which is close to this melan- 
choly exhibition, its only attractions are a double row 
of trees, a few stone seats for the use of pedestrians, 
and three fountains overloaded with detestable allegor- 
ical statues. At this spot you catch a glimpse of a 
part of the country seen from the towers of the Cathe- 
dral ; the two snow-covered peaks of the volcanoes with 
their canopy of clouds ; the sierra shaded with its 
beautiful violet tints : lower down, the whitened fronts 
of several haciendas ; and through the arches of a gi- 
gantic aqueduct you descry fields of maize, church 
domes and convents, almost always half hidden at the 
promenade hour in the mist which generally ascends 
at nightfall. 

On the evening of the day on which 1 had witnessed 
the bull-fight, I found myself in a crowd of idlers who 
ordinarily cover the space between the Paseo and the 
Alameda. It was twilight ; the lamps were about to be 
lighted, and pedestrians and carriages were severally 
wending their way homeward. It was Sunday. Noisi- 
ly repeated by the numerous bells of the churches and 
convents, the toll of the Angelus ro*se high above the 
murmur of the crowd, of which one portion respectful- 
ly paused, while the other made its way like a torrent 
that nothing could resist. The last gleams of depart- 
ing day glimmered through the grate of the Morgue, and 



A MEXICAN POLICEMAN. 25 

lighted up feebly the victims who were lying promis- 
cuously on the slabbed pavement, stained here and 
there with large patches of blood. Women, uttering 
the most piercing cries of sorrow, returned to the rusty 
grated window, though again and again pushed back 
by the soldiers. Their cries attracted the passers-by ; 
some pitied them ; others contented themselves with 
peering curiously in their faces. Kneeling before the 
grated window, his head uncovered, and the bridle of 
his richly-caparisoned horse in his hand, stood a man 
praying devoutly. From his costume you could easi- 
ly see that he belonged to that opulent class of inhab- 
itants of the Tierra Afuera, who disdain both the 
fashions and ideas of Europeans. His picturesque 
costume harmonized well with his manly and noble 
features. Above the right eyebrow of the stranger 
extended a long narrow scar. It was doubtless the 
handsome young cavalier whom Perico had that very 
morning described to me. Was he thanking God for 
preserving him from danger, or for loving and being- 
loved ? The question remained doubtful ; besides, the 
emotions which gave rise to these conjectures were sud- 
denly interrupted. Startled by the noise of the car- 
riages, a refractory horse struck violently against a 
ladder, on the top of which a sereno (watchman) was 
lighting a lamp suspended from the walls of the bar- 
rack of La Acordada. The sereno fell from a height 
of fifteen feet, and lay motionless on the pavement. It 
would be easy to describe the feelings of the unfortu- 
nate horseman when he saw the poor fellow lying un- 
conscious, and perhaps dangerously injured; for the 
cavalier, I must own, was myself; but I prefer telling 
what followed. 

Every one is well aware of the benevolent feelings 
B 



26 POPULACE IN MEXICO. 

of the populace of great towns toward those who have 
the misfortune to be guilty of such sad accidents. It 
is impossible, however, to have an exact idea of the 
spirit of such a populace, in Mexico especially, toward 
a foreigner, which is there synonymous with a national 
enemy. Hemmed in, in spite of his mettle, amid a 
dense crowd of leperos, who were deliberating only 
what sort of punishment to inflict on the unhappy au- 
thor of such a calamity, my horse was of no use to me. 
I could not help envying for an instant the fate of the 
sereno, insensible at least to the rude hustling of the 
crowd, who mercilessly trod him under foot. Fortu- 
nately, chance sent me two auxiliaries, on one of whom, 
at least, I was far from reckoning. The first was an 
alcalde, who, escorted by four soldiers, made his way 
through the crowd, and told me that in his eyes I was 
guilty of having caused the death of a Mexican citizen. 
I bowed, and said not a word. In compliance with 
the magistrate's orders, the still inanimate body of the 
sereno was placed on a tapestle (a kind of litter), al- 
ways kept at the barracks for similar accidents ; then 
politely inviting me to dismount, the alcalde ordered 
me to follow the litter on foot to the palace, which was 
not more than two paces from the prison. It may be 
supposed that I took good care not to comply at once 
with this invitation, and attempted to demonstrate to 
the alcalde that the exceptional case in which I stood 
nowise warranted such a procession. Unhappily, the 
alcalde was, like all his class, gifted with strong ob- 
stinacy, and replied to all my arguments only by in- 
sisting on the respect due to custom. I then thought 
of seeking among the spectators some one who might 
be security for me, and, very naturally, my eyes sought 
the place where I had seen the cavalier, who had, at 



PEEICO SECURITY FOE THE CAVALIEE. 27 

first sight, inspired me with such interest ; but he had 
disappeared. Was I then to be compelled to submit 
to the odious formality required by the alcalde ? Chance 
at this moment sent me the second auxiliary of which 
I have spoken. This new personage, who interposed 
between me and the alcalde, was very jauntily dressed 
in a cloak of olive-colored Queretaro cloth, the skirt 
of which, thrown back, almost entirely hid his face. 
Through the numerous rents in his cloak appeared a 
jacket as dilapidated as his upper garaient. Having, 
with great exertion, got through the crowd as far as 
the alcalde, this personage passed his hands through 
one of the holes in his cloak, and was thus able to 
touch the remains of a hat which covered his head 
without disarranging the folds of his cape. He cour- 
teously uncovered, while a few cigarettes, a lottery 
ticket, and an image of the miraculous Virgin of Gua- 
daloupe remained sticking in his long black hair. I 
was not a little surprised in recognizing in this re- 
spectable townsman my friend Perico, whom I believed 
dead, and pn the eve of being buried. 

" Seiior Alcalde," said Perico, " this cavalier is 
right. He committed the murder involuntarily, and 
he should not be confounded with ordinary malefac- 
tors ; besides, I am here to become security for him, 
for I have the honor of his intimate acquaintance." 

" And who will be security for you V asked the al- 
calde. 

"My antecedents," modestly replied the Zaragate, 
" and this cavalier," added he, pointing to me. 

" But if you become security for him ?" 

"Well, I become security for this cavalier — he is 
security for me ; you have, therefore, two securities for 
one, and your lordship could not be better suited." 



28 A MEXICAN MOiJ. 

I confess that, placed between the justice of the al- 
calde and the offensive protection of Perico, I hesitated 
an instant. On his side, the alcalde seemed scarcely 
convinced loj the syllogism which Perico had enunci- 
ated with such barefaced assurance. I thought it best, 
then, to finish the debate by whispering to the alcalde 
my address. 

" Well," he replied, on retiring, " I accept the secu- 
rity of your friend in the olive cloak, and will go im- 
mediately to your house, where I hope to find you." 

The alcalde and his soldiers walked away ; the mob 
remained as compact and threatening as before, but a 
shrill whistle and two or three gambols played by Per- 
ico soon caused him to be acknowledged by the peo- 
ple of his caste, who eagerly made way for him. The 
lepero then took my horse by the bridle, and I quitted 
this scowling rabble very uneasy about the termina- 
tion of my adventure, and much depressed at the un- 
fortunate event of which I had been the innocent 
cause. 

" How comes it that I find you in such good health ?" 
said I to my guide, when I had recovered a little my 
presence of mind. " I confess I thought your affairs 
in this world were forever wound up." 

" God wrought a miracle specially for his servant," 
returned Perico, and he devoutly raised his eyes to 
heaven ; " but it appears, seiior, that my resurrection 
displeases you. You can conceive that, in spite of my 
strong desire to be agreeable to you — " 

"Not at all, Perico; by no means ; I am delighted 
to see you alive ; but how was this miracle brought 
about ?" 

" I don't know," gravely replied the lepero ; " only 
I was resuscitated so quickly as not only to resume 



RESUSCITATION OF PERICO. ' 29 

m J place among the spectators of the fight, but even 
to attempt another ascension. I had just been con- 
fessed and received absolution, and it was a capital 
opportunity for risking my life without endangering 
my soul. I wished to profit by it, and it brought me 
good fortune ; for this time, although the bull gave me 
another pitch in the air with his horns, I fell on my 
feet, to the great delight of the public, who showered 
reals and half reals upon me. Then finding myself, 
thanks to you especially, with a tolerably well-lined 
purse, I thought it my duty to satisfy my love for 
dress ; I went to a haratillo, and purchased this garb, 
which gives me quite a respectable appearance. You 
saw with what consideration the alcalde treated me. 
There is nothing like being well dressed, senor." 

I saw clearly that the fellow had done me once more, 
and that his pretended agony, like his confession, had 
been only simulated for the purpose of getting more 
money out of me. I must confess, however, that my 
anger was disarmed at this moment by the comic dig- 
nity with which the lepero strutted about in his torn 
cloak all the time he was holding forth in this strange 
way. I determined to rid myself of company that was 
becoming troublesome to me, and said to Perico, with 
a smile, 

" If I reckon accurately, your children's illness, your 
wife's confinement, and your own shroud have cost me 
little less than a hundred piastres ; to release you of 
the whole debt will, I would fain hope, be a sufiicient 
reward for the service you have rendered me. I will 
therefore return home immediately; and I again thank 
you for your kindness." 

" Home, seiior ! What are you thinking about ?" 
cried Perico ; " why, by this time your house will be 



30 NOT TO BE SHAKEN OFF. 

in the hands of the soldiers ; they are seeking you 
among all your friends. You do not know the alcalde 
you have to do with." 

"Do you know him, then?" 

" I know all the alcaldes, senor ; and what proves 
how little I deserve the surname bestowed upon me 
is, that all the alcaldes do not know me ; but of all 
his fellows, the one in pursuit of you is the most 
cunning, the most rapacious, and the most diabol- 
ical." 

Although I felt that this portrait was exaggerated, 
I was for a moment shaken in my resolution. Perico 
tlien represented to me, in very moving terms, tlie hap- 
piness his wife and children would receive by seeing 
their benefactor indebted to them for a night's lodging. 
Having a choice between two protectors equally disin- 
terested, I allowed myself to be convinced by the one 
whose rapacity seemed most easily satisfied; I decided 
upon once more following the lepero. 

Meanwhile, night came on ; we traversed suspicious 
lanes, deserted places, streets unknown to me, and 
shrouded in darkness. The serenos (policemen) be- 
came more and more scarce. I felt myself hurried 
away into the heart of those dreadful suburbs where 
justice dares not penetrate ; I was unarmed, and at the 
mercy of a man whose frightful confession I had just 
heard. Hitherto the Zaragate, I must confess, in spite 
of his crimes so unblushingly avowed, did not seem to 
me to stand out in glaring relief among a people de- 
moralized by ignorance, want, and civil. wars; but at 
that hour, amid a labyrinth of dark lanes, and in the 
silence of the night, my imagination gave fantastic and 
colossal dimensions to his picaresque figure. My po- 
sition was a difiicult one. To leave such a guide sud- 



THE POLICEMAN. 31 

denly in this cut-throat quarter was dangerous, to fol- 
low him not less so. 

"Where the devil do you live?" said I. The 
lepero scratched his head in answer. I asked him 
again. 

" To say the truth," replied he at last, "having no 
fixed abode, I live a little every Tvliere." 

"And your wife and children, and the night's shel- 
ter you offered me ?" > 

" I forgot," replied the Zaragate, imperturbably ; "I 
sent away my wife and children yesterday to — to Que- 
retaro ; but -as for a lodging — " 

"Is that at Queretaro also?" I asked Perico, dis- 
covering, when too late, that the wife and children of 
this honorable personage were as imaginary as his 
abode. 

" As for shelter," added Perico, with the same im- 
passible air, "you shall share that which I can pro- 
cure for you, and which I find when my means won't 
admit of paying for a night's lodging, for heaven does 
not send us every day bull-fights and such like wind- 
falls. Stop," said he, pointing with his finger to a glim- 
mering light at a distance, which was reflected on the 
granite pavement ; " that is perhaps what we are seek- 
ing for." 

We advanced to the light, and soon perceived that 
it came from the lantern of a sereno. Wrapped in a 
yellow cloak almost as ragged as Perico's, the guardian 
of the night, squatted on the pavement, seemed to fol- 
low with his melancholy gaze the large clouds which 
flitted across the sky. At our approach he still kept 
his indolent position. 

" Halloo ! friend," said the Zaragate, "do you know 
of any velorio (wake) in this neighborhood ?" 



32 MEXICAN CASUISTRY. 

" Of course, a few cuadras from here, near the bridge 
of Eguizamo, you will find one ; and if I did not fear 
some round of the Senor Regidor's, or found some 
good fellow to don my cloak and take care of my lan- 
tern, I would go with you to the entertainment my- 
self." 

"Much obliged," said Perico, politely; "we will 
profit by the information." 

The sereno cast a look of astonishment at my dress, 
which was singularly out of keeping with Perico's. 

" Gentlemen like that cavalier are little in the habit 
of frequenting such meetings," said the man of the po- 
lice. 

"This is a special case; this seiior has contracted 
a debt which obliges him to spend the night else- 
where." 

" That makes all the difference in the world," said 
the sereno. " There are some debts that one likes to 
be as long in paying as possible." And, hearing a 
church clock strike at a distance, the night-watch, 
troubling himself no more about us, cried out in a dole- 
ful tone, " Nine o'clock and stormy weather." He 
then resumed his former attitude, while the distant 
voices of the serenos answered him in succession 
through the silence of the night. 

I resumed my melancholy march behind Perico, fol- 
lowed by my horse, which I led by the bridle, as, by 
the police regulations of Mexico, no one is allowed to 
ride through the streets after Angelus has rung, and I 
was unwilling to try another fall with the alcaldes. 
Shall I confess it? My curiosity was roused by the 
words of my guide, and I decided at this moment not 
to separate from him. I wanted to know what a ve- 
lorio was ; and this love of novelty, which finds so 



NIGHT SCENE IN MEXICO. 33 

many opportunities of satisfying itself in Mexico, once 
more made me forget my troubles. 

We had not walked ten minutes, till, as the sereno 
had told us, we came to a bridge thrown over a narrow 
canal. Some dilapidated houses bathed their greenish 
bases in the thick muddy water. A lamp which burn- 
ed dimly before a picture of the souls in Purgatory 
t]n-ew its livid reflex on the stagnant water. On the 
terraces the watch-dogs bayed at the moon, which was 
sometimes hidden, sometimes fringed only by a mov- 
able curtain of clouds, for it was the rainy season. 
Except those doleful sounds, all was silent there as in 
the other parts of the town that we had traversed. 
The windows in the first story, brightly lighted up 
opposite the picture of the souls in Purgatory, were 
the only things remarkable in this double row of mel- 
ancholy-looking huts. Perico knocked at the door of 
the house with the illuminated windows. They were 
rather long in coming ; at last the door half opened, 
one of the leaves being fastened as usual by an iron 
chain. 

" Who is there ?" said a man's voice. 

" Friends who come to pray for the dead and rejoice 
with the living," said Perico, without hesitation. 

We entered. Lighted by the porter's lantern, we 
passed through a porch and entered an inner court. 
The guide pointed out to Perico an iron ring let into 
the wall. I tied my horse up by the bridle ; we as- 
cended some twenty steps, and I entered, preceded by 
Perico, a room tolerably well lighted up. I was at 
last going to learn what a velorio was. 

B2 



34 A MEXICAN WAKE. 



CHAPTER III. 

A Mexican Wake. 

The company to which Perico had introduced me 
presented a very singular appearance. About twenty 
men and women of the lowest class were seated in a 
circle, chatting, bawling, and gesticulating. A dank, 
cadaverous smell pervaded the apartment, which was 
hardly smothered by the smoke of cigars, and the fumes 
of Xeres and Chinguirito. In a corner of the room 
stood a table loaded with provisions of every sort, with 
cups, bottles, and flasks. Some gamblers, seated at a 
table a little farther off, jingling copper money, and 
shouting out the technical terms of monte, were quar- 
reling, with drunken excitement, over piles of cuartil- 
las* and tlacos. Under the triple excitement of wine, 
women, and play, the orgie, which had only commenced 
when I arrived, seemed likely to mount to a formida- 
ble height ; but what struck me most was precisely 
that which seemed to engage the attention of the as- 
sembly least. A young child, who seemed to have 
scarcely reached his seventh year, was lying at full 
length on a table. His pale brow, wreathed with flow- 
ers faded by the heat of the stifling atmosphere, his 
glazed eyes, and shriveled, sunken cheeks, already 
tinged with a violet hue, plainly showed that life had 
left him, and that it was some days, probably, since 
he had slept the eternal sleep. The mere sight of the 
little corpse was heartrending amid the cries, the gam- 
* A cuartilla is worth Hd ; a tlaco id. 



THE DEAD CHILD. 36 

bling, and the noisy conversation ; the men and wom- 
en meanwhile laughing and singing like savages. The 
flowers and jewels which decorated him, far from strip- 
ping death of its gloomy solemnity, only made the ap- 
pearance more hideous. A general silence followed 
our entrance. A man, in whom I soon recognized the 
master of the house and the father of the dead child, 
rose to receive us. His face, far from being oppressed 
with sadness, seemed, on the contrary, radiant with 
delight, and he pointed with an air of pride to the nu- 
merous guests that had assembled to celebrate the 
death of his son, an event considered as a favor from 
heaven, since God had been pleased to call the child 
to himself before he was old enough to displease him. 
He assured us that we were welcome to his house, and 
that to him, on such an occasion, strangers became 
friends. Thanks to the loquacity of Perico, I had be- 
come the focus on which all eyes were centred. I 
had a difficult part to play, Perico thinking it right to 
make it appear to all who would listen to him that no 
one could kill people with a better grace than I. To 
enable me to act my part properly, I hastened to put 
my gloves in my pocket, and affect the most cavalier 
assurance, convinced that it was prudent to follow the 
fashion. 

" What do you think of the lodging I have found 
you?" asked Perico, rubbing his hands; "is not this 
better than what I could oifer you ? besides, you will 
now know what a velorio is ; it will be a resource in 
the evenings when you are low-spirited, and have noth- 
ing to do. Thanks to me, you will thus acquire a title 
to the eternal gratitude of this worthy father, whose 
child, having died before its seventh year, is now an 
ansel in heaven." 



oi) MEXICAN MOTHERS, 

And Perico, anxious, no doubt, to have a share in 
this tribute of gratitude, seized, without ceremony, an 
enormous glass of chhiguirito, and swallowed it at a 
draught. I witnessed for the hrst time this barbarous 
custom, which, compels the father of a family to cloak 
his sorrow beneath a smiling face, and to do the hon- 
ors of his house to the first vagabond who, under the 
guidance of a sereno, comes to gorge himself with meat 
and drink before the corpse of his son, and share in 
that profuse liberality which often brings want to the 
family on the morrow. 

The orgie, which had been disturbed a moment by 
our entrance, now fell in its usual course, and I began 
to cast my eyes about a little. In the midst of a cir- 
cle of excited females, who esteem it a duty never to 
neglect a night-wake, I perceived a pale face, lips at- 
tempting to smile in spite of eyes full of tears, and, in 
this victim of a gross superstition, I had little difficul- 
ty in detecting the mother, for whom an angel in heav- 
en could not compensate for the angel she missed on 
earth. The women about her seemed vying with one 
another as to who should increase the sorrow of the 
poor woman by their ill-timed but well-meant impor- 
tunities. The different stages of the disease, and the 
sufferings of the dead child, were described by one 
woman ; another enumerated infallible remedies that 
she would have applied if she had been consulted in 
time, such as St. Nicholas's plasters, moxas, the vapor 
of purslane gathered on a Friday in Lent, decoctions 
of herbs strained through a bit of a Dominican's frock, 
and the poor credulous mother turned her head away 
to wipe her eyes, thoroughly convinced that these rem- 
edies, if applied in time, would have saved her child. 
Sherry and cigarettes were rapidly consumed during 



PEKICO'S OKTHODOXY. 37 

i^ese discussions ; then all tlie innocent games in use in 
Spanish America were proposed and played, while the 
children, weary and sleepy, lay down to rest in. every 
corner of the room, as if envying him whose discolored 
face protested, beneath the withered flowers, against 
this odious profanation of the dead. 

Seated in the deep recess of one of the windows 
which looked into the street, I watched all Perico's mo- 
tions with some uneasiness. It appeared to me that 
the protection he had so suddenly bestowed was only 
a cloak to entrap me. My features must have betray- 
ed my uneasiness, for the lepero approached and said, 
by way of consolation, 

" Look you, senor, killing a man is like every thing 
else ; the first step is the only painful one. Besides, 
your sereno may perhaps be like my Englishman, who 
is to-day as well as ever. These heretics have as many 
lives as a cat. Ah! seiior," said Perico, with a sigh, 
"I have always regretted that I was not a heretic." 

"To have as many lives as a cat?" 

" No, to be paid for my conversion ! Unfortunately, 
my reputation as a Christian is too well established." 

" But the cavalier you were to kill," I asked of Per- 
ico, naturally brought back to the recollection of the 
melancholy young man whom I had seen kneeling be- 
fore the Morgue, " do you think that he. is still alive ?" 

Perico shook his head. " To-morrow, perhaps, his 
mad passion may. have cost him his life, and his mis- 
tress will not survive .him. I have no desire to make 
two victims at once, and I threw up the business." 

"These sentiments do you honor, Perico." 

Perico wished to profit by the favorable impression 
his answer had produced upon me. 

"Doubtless — you can not risk your soul so for a 



38 A MEXICAN ORaiE 

few piastres. But, speaking of piastres, senor," lie 
continued, holding out his hand, " I feel in the vein, 
and perhaps there are still a few pieces left in your 
purse. If I break the bank at tnonte^ you shall go 
halves with my winnings." 

I thought it prudent to yield to this new demand of 
the Zaragate. The play, besides, would free me from 
his company, which was becoming irksome. I slip- 
ped, then, some piastres into Perico's hand. Almost at 
the same moment twelve o'clock struck. One of the 
company rose, and cried in a solemn tone, " It is the 
hour of the souls in Purgatory; let us pray!" 

The gamblers arose, amusements were suspended, 
and all the company gravely knelt. The prayer be- 
gan in a high tone of voice, interrupted by responses 
at regular intervals, and for the firs-t time the object 
of the meeting seemed remembered. Picture to your- 
selves these sots, their eyes glazed with drunkenness — 
these women in tatters, standing round a corpse crown- 
ed with flowers ; draw over all this kneeling crowd the 
vapors of a thick atmosphere, in which putrid miasmas 
were mingled with the fumes of liquor, and you will 
have an idea of the strange and horrible scene of which 
I was forced to become an unwilling eye-witness. 

Prayers over, gambling commenced anew, but not 
with so much liveliness as before. In company, when 
the night is far advanced, there is always a strong in- 
clination to go to sleep ; but when this struggle is 
over, the spirits become more lively, and get almost 
delirious and frantic. That is the hour of the orgie : 
the time was approaching. 

I had again sat down in the recess of the window, 
and, to drive away the drowsiness which I felt steal- 
ing upon me, occasioned by the close air in the room, 



AND NIGHT PATEOL. 39 

had opened the window a little. Looking out into the 
darkness of the night, I tried to find out, by the stars, 
what o'clock it was, and also to trace my way mental- 
ly through the labyrinth of streets, but I could scarce- 
ly see a bit of the sky, which on that night was cloudy, 
above the tops of the neighboring houses. I never re- 
membered to have seen in Mexico before this canal 
with its leaden waters, nor tlrose dark, deserted lanes 
which ran at right angles to it. I was completely at 
fault. Should I remain any longer amid this hideous 
orgie ? Ought I not to try to escape, even though it 
was dangerous, through the streets of this distant sub- 
urb? While I was irresolutely weighing all these 
things in my mind, a noise of steps and confused whis- 
pers attracted my attention. I hid myself behind one 
of the shutters, so as to see and hear without being 
seen. Half a dozen men soon issued from a lane in 
front of the house in which I was. Their leader was 
wrapped in an esclivina* which only half concealed 
the scabbard of his sword. The others were armed 
with naked sabres. A European but newly arrived in 
the country would have considered them criminals 
from their timid deportment, but my experienced eye 
could not be deceived ; justice alone could seem so ter- 
rified, and I easily recognized the night patrol, com- 
posed of a regidor, an auxiliary alcalde, and four cela- 
dores. 

^^Yoto a briosP'' said the man in the esclavina, 
probably one of the auxiliary magistrates, at once al- 
caldes and publicajps, who lodge criminals during the 
day, and let them off to pursue them at night ; " what 
does my Lord Prefect mean by sending us to patrol in 
such a quarter as this, where the officers of justice 

* A small frock-coat, a short cloak. 



40 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 

have never penetrated. I should Uke to see him era- 
ployed about this husiress." 

"He would take care to provide himself with fire- 
arms, that he refuses to us," said one of the corchetes, 
who appeared the coolest of the party, " for criminals 
and malefactors are not in the habit of carrying the 
arms we do, and the person whom we have been or- 
dered to protect will perhaps experience it this night 
to his cost." 

"What the devil!" said the alcalde, "when one 
knows that he runs the risk of getting a dagger into 
him at night, why does not he stay at home ?" 

" There are some scamps whom nothing frightens," 
replied one of the corchetes ; " but, as the Evangelist 
says, ' he who seeks the danger shall perish in it.' " 

" What o'clock may it be now ?" asked the auxili- 
ary. 

" Four in the morning," answered one of the men ; 
and, .raising his eyes to the window behind which I 
was concealed, he added, "I envy those people who 
pass the night so merrily in that tertulia.'''' Talking 
thus, the celadores walked along the brink of the ca- 
nal. All at once the auxiliary at their head stumbled 
'in the darkness. At that moment a man sprang up 
and stood before the patrol. 

"Who are you?" cried the alcalde, in a voice meant 
to be imposing. 

" What's that to you?" replied the man as haughti- 
ly. "Can't a man sleep in the streets without being- 
questioned?" 

" One sleeps at home as — as — much as possible," 
stammered the alcalde, evidently frightened. 

The person thus caught acting so much like a vag- 
abond gave a shrill whistle, and, pushing the alcalde 



GAMBLING FOE A CHILD. 41 

aside, ran down a neighboring lane. To my great 
surprise, the alcalde and the celadores, like men who 
dread a snare, instead of following him, ran off in quite 
an opposite direction. Almost at the same moment a 
hand was laid on my shoulder. I started and turned 
ahout. Perico and my host stood before me. 

" That whistle sounds wonderfully like the call of 
my chum Navaja, when out on an expedition," cried 
the former, stooping to peer through the window, while 
the latter, with bleared eyes, his legs tottering like a 
man who had too conscientiously fulfilled his duties as 
master of the house, offered me a glass of liquor, that 
his shaky hand allowed to run over. Then, with the 
irritability peculiar to drunkards, 

"One may say, senor," said he to me, "that you 
despise the society of poor people like us ; you don't 
play, you don't drink ; yet, in certain cases of con- 
science, gambling and brandy give great relief. Look 
at me now ! To gratify my friends, I have eaten and 
drunk what I have and what I haven't : well, I am hap- 
py, although I don't possess a tlaco in the world ; and, 
if you like, I will play with you for my child's body ! 
It is a stake," continued he, in a confidential tone, 
" which is as good as another, for I can let it out, and 
well too, to some lover of a velorio." 

" Play for the body of your child !" I cried. 

"Why not? That is done every day. Every body 
hasn't the good fortune to have an angel aloft, and the 
body of this dear little one brings luck here." 

I got rid, as well as I could, of the entreaties of 
this tender-hearted father, and cast my eyes once more 
into the street, but the approaches to the canal were 
now silent and deserted. I was not long, however, in 
discovering that this quiet, this solitude, were only ap- 



42 THE ORGIE AT ITS HEIGHT. 

parent. Some strange, vague sounds escaped now and 
then from one of the lanes leading to the canal. Pres- 
ently I fancied I heard the crunching of unsteady steps 
on the gravel. With my body leaning over the bal- 
cony, and listening intently, I waited for the moment 
when the awful stillness would be broken by some cry 
of anguish. The sound of voices, loud in dispute, 
again drew my attention to the room on which my 
back was turned. The orgie was this moment at its 
height. The Zaragate, surrounded by a group of an- 
gry gamblers, whose suspicions had been roused by 
his run of good luck, was trying, but in vain, to wrap 
around him the shreds of his olive cloak, which had 
been torn into ribbons by the furious hands of his ad- 
versaries. 

The most stinging epithets were launched against 
him from all sides. 

"I am a man of substance," cried the fellow, im- 
pudently, " as much as those whose uncivil hands have 
torn to tatters the handsomest cloak I ever possessed." 

" Barefaced swindler! "cried a gambler ; "your cloak 
had as many rents as your conscience." 

" In any other place," replied Perico, who was pru- 
dently edging toward the door, " you would have to 
give me satisfaction for this double insult. Senoi*," 
said he, appealing to me, "be ray surety, as I have 
been yours ; half of my winning's is yours ; they were 
honestly come by. All this is but mere slander." 

I was once more mentally cursing my intimacy with 
Perico, when an occurrence of a graver nature made a 
happy diversion to the scene in which I saw myself in 
danger of becoming; an actor. A man rushed hurried- 
ly out of one of the back rooms on the same floor. 
Close behind him another followed, knife in hand; a 



' THE KNIFE. 43 

woman after, shrieking terribly, and her dress flying 
in disorder about her. 

" Will you stand and see me murdered ?" cried the 
pursued, piteously. "Will no one hand me a knife ?" 

"Let me bury my knife in this rascal's body, this 
destroyer of my honor!" gasped the outraged hus- 
band. 

The women, doubtless through sympathy, shrieked 
in concert, and uttered the most dreadful cries, while 
a friend of the offender slyly slipped a long knife into 
his hand. The latter faced about, and rushed boldly 
at his adversary. The cries of the women increased ; 
a dreadful confusion ensued. The infuriated fellows 
made prodigious efforts to get at one another. Blood 
was about to flow, when, in the struggle, the table on 
which the infant lay was overturned. The body fell 
on the floor with a dull, heavy sound, and the flowers 
were scattered about. A large circle formed round the 
profaned corpse. A piercing sliriek rose over all the 
uproar, and the bereaved mother threw herself on her 
child's remains with a cry of intense agony. 

I had seen too much. I rushed to the balcony to 
cast a second look into the street, to assure myself that 
escape was yet possible ; but there was no egress in 
that way. A man had just emerged from one of the 
lanes which opened upon the opposite bank of the 
canal. Other men came behind him, brandishing their 
weapons. This Navaja, whom Perico acknowledged 
as one of the fraternity, had doubtless collected his 
troop, and I was about to see him terminate, without 
being able to help his victim, one of those nocturnal 
brawls, of which some of the leperos boast. TJie per- 
son they were pursuing soon reached tJie parapet, and 
set his back to it. I distinctly heard him exclaim. 



44 PERICO'S APPROPRIATION. ' 

"Back, you cowardly rascals, who figlit five to 
one." 

"At him, M'uchachos /" cried the chief of the hand; 
"tliere are a hundred piastres to be earned." 

Need I tell what followed ? The unequal struggle 
lasted only a few moments. Soon a fierce shout an- 
nounced that the murderers had triumphed. The un- 
happy man still breathed. He was able even to drag 
himself to the bridge, and, waving the stump of his 
sword, to dare the assassins to come on. Again sur- 
rounded by these villains, he once more fell beneath 
their blows. By the wan light of the lamp burning 
for the souls in Purgatory, I saw the men lift a bleed- 
ing body and throw it into the canal, the surface of 
which was for a moment disturbed. A second after, 
the assassins dispersed, and so rapidly that I asked 
myself if all this was not a bad dream ; but the real- 
ity was too evident for me to indulge long in this 
error. Another incident occurred to prove to me that 
I was wide awake. A man on horseback issued from 
the house to which a fatal chain of events had bound 
me, and in this man I recognized Perico, mounted on 
the noble animal that I had brought with so much 
trouble from the hacienda de la Noria. 

"Halloo, you rascal!" I exclaimed, "this is too 
much; you are stealing my horse." 

" Senor," replied Perico, with astonishing compo- 
sure, " I am carrying away a proof which might crim- 
inate your lordship." 

Such was the lepero's farewell. The spurs driven 
home, the horse sprang off at a gallop. Without tak- 
ing leave of any body, I set oif in pm'suit. It was too 
late ; I only heard in the distance his plaintive neigh 
and the break of his gallop. These sounds soon died 



THE ASSASSINATED. 45 

away. I rushed at random down one of the lanes which 
led to the canal. I wandered a long time in this laby- 
rinth before finding myself in a place I knew, and day 
was breaking before I discovered my whereabouts. 
Night had brought its counsel, and I resolved to make 
a declaration in a court of law about the misfortune I 
had caused the night before. I went, then, to the jus- 
gado de latras* When I entered the judge had not 
yet arrived, and I waited in the hall. Fatigue and 
want of sleep were not long in making me oblivious of 
all my anxieties, and I fell asleep on a bench. I was 
retracing in my dreams the extraordinary scenes I had 
witnessed. I fancied I heard a dull noise about me, 
then deep silence all at once. I opened my eyes ; I 
still believed myself a prey to the nightmare. A 
stretcher, covered with a bloody sheet, was laid almost 
at my feet. A thought passed through me like a flash 
of lightning. I imagined that I had been recognized, 
and that, by a refinement of barbarous justice, they 
were about to confront me with him whose death I had 
caused. I walked to the end of the lobby ; the sight 
of the bloody sheet became insupportable to me. I 
gradually reassured myself, however, and, arming my- 
self with courage, went and raised a corner of the cov- 
ering. I had no difficulty in recognizing the victim. 
His pale, handsome face, and forehead marked with a 
long, slender scar, had left too deep an impression in 
my memory. The marshy plants and green slime 
which soiled his clothes reminded me of the theatre ot 
the crime. This was the man I had seen die so val- 
iantly, and whose loss, I knew, would be so tenderly 
bewailed. I let the sheet fall over his noble face. 
I hasten to terminate this too long story. Twenty 
* Justiciary court. The^'we^ de latras is the criminal judge. 



46 MY EXPERIENCE AND ITS COST. 

days had passed. No attention seemed to have been 
paid to the unfortunate accident of which I had been 
the innocent cause, and nothing remained of my noc- 
turnal adventures but an invincible horror of the whole 
tribe of leperos, when I received an order to appear be- 
fore a strange alcalde. A man about forty years of 
age, as much a stranger to me as the alcalde, was wait- 
ing for me at the bar. 

" Sehor," said this man to me, "I am the lamp- 
lighter whom your lordship almost killed ; and as this 
accident has kept me from work for a fortnight, you 
will not take it ill if I ask you to make it up to me." 

" Certainly not," said I, delighted to know that I 
had not to reproach myself with the death of any body. 
" How much do you ask?" 

" Five hundred piastres, sehor." 

I must confess that this exorbitant charge imme- 
diately changed my pleasure into anger, and I could 
not help mentally consigning the lamplighter to the 
devil. But these feelings cooled down almost imme- 
diately ; and the alcalde advising me to compound 
with the man, I was glad to be let off for a fifth part 
of the sum demanded by the lamplighter. After all, 
if my studies had been too expensive, the experience I 
had gained had its value, and I regretted nothing that 
Perico had extorted from me, not even the noble horse 
which he had so ingeniously appropriated. 



Ixa'Q S^rapto, i\)t Ivandscan Monk. 



CHAPTER I. 

The Convent of St. Francis. 



In the present state of society in Europe, in which 
the principles and traditions of the Middle Ages have 
"been so completely broken up, one can hardly form any 
idea of the influence which the monk exercises in Mex- 
ico, and of the strong tie which connects him with the 
world. If, however, this bond had no existence, the 
singular picture which Mexican society presents would 
lose one of its greatest charms — the perpetual contrast, 
namely, of the customs and characteristics of the nine- 
teenth century with those of the time of PhiHp 11. Be- 
side men armed to the teeth, women dressed as in the 
days of Cortez and Pizarro, and barelegged Indians, 
with feet encased in ancient sandals, the gown of the 
monk appears, not as an anomaly, but as a highly po- 
etic souvenir. This figure is not out of keeping with 
the picture, but in perfect harmony with it. Wheth- 
er in public or in private, the monk takes a share in 
Mexican life, not only every day, but almost every 
moment. Not to speak of the many religious ceremo- 
nies performed by the monks, the rules of the cloister 
are generally so lax as to allow them free liberty of 
egress at almost any hour ; and thus they can mix, 
without difficulty, in all the gayeties of the world. 



48 THE MEXICAN PREACHEK. 

You can easily understand what a picturesque element 
is introduced into society bj this immense crowd, who 
issue every day from the numerous convents, each or- 
der bringing its own type upon the scene, from the 
black frock of the Dominican to the white robe of 
the Mercedario. 

If the upper classes of Mexican society have es- 
caped from the trammels of monkish influence, the 
middle classes regard them with as much superstitious 
reverence as they did a century ago. The fantastic 
eloquence of the Middle Ages still keeps its ground 
here. The Mexican preacher, carried away by his en- 
thusiasm, seizes upon the most startling metaphors: 
sometimes he represents God as making the sun his 
charger^ and the moon his stirrup /* sometimes it is 
an obscene story, to which, with the most imperturba- 
ble gravity, he attaches a religious moral. When out 
of pulpit or confessional, the same man who inculcated 
the severest ascetism, utters the raciest jokes, and 
sings the best songs in some tertulia on the ground 
floor. He even pushes his anxiety so far as to fur- 
nish the laity with hints about dress. He gives ex- 
cellent directions about the cut of a new suit of clothes ; 
nay, more, he charges himself sometimes with their 
purchase, frequenting assiduously the saloons of fash- 
ion — and there is no appeal from his criticism. Very 
often his complaisance is not of the most disinterested 
kind ; too often his purchase is only a kind of tribute 
paid to a family whom the reverend father supports at 
his own expense, on condition of tasting clandestinely 
vsx its pleasures. The monk is every where except at 
his convent. Every thing is an attraction to him — 
bull-fights, cock-fights, gambling-tables, and theatres ; 
* Cabalgando el sol, y estribando la luna. 



THE MEXICAN PRIEST. 49 

every place gives him an opportunity of displaying his 
whims and oddities. Let no one fancy that his com- 
pliant manners operate against him as a priest and 
spiritual director. The Mexicans understand to a 
nicety the bond which unites devotion to worldly 
pleasures. When the monk, late at night, wends his 
way to his convent after a day spent in dissipation, 
the passers-by, when they see him, how the knee with 
as much respect as if his pious discourses and conduct 
were not in startling contrast with each other. 

After this account of the character and habits of the 
Mexican monk, no one will be astonished at the oc- 
currence which made me acquainted with one of the 
j oiliest members of the great monastic family, the 
Reverend Fray Serapio. Curiosity had led me to a 
popular fete in the environs of Mexico, that of San 
Augustin de las Crevas, a small town about twelve 
miles from the capital. This fete, which makes Mex- 
ico a deserted city for three days, is frequented by the 
elite of Mexican gamblers. Whoever does not play 
is looked upon with suspicion. I followed the exam- 
ple of the numerous card-players who had been at- 
tracted to San Augustin, and seated myself at a table. 
My opposite neighbor was a Franciscan of athletic 
mould, and I shall never forget his sunburned, swarthy 
countenance, his piercing look, and his shaven face 
fringed with clusters of long crisp hair, shaggy as a 
bison's mane. He was a true soldier in a monkish 
dress. After a run of bad luck, I left the tables just 
as my last stake disappeared in the pocket of the monk. 
I wandered for some time in the streets of the village, 
hearing around me every where the clink of quadru- 
ples and piastres. I then mounted my horse, and, 
cursing my ill luck, took the road to Mexico. I had 

C 



50 THE TURNPIKE GATE. 

scarcely gone more than half way when I was brought 
to a stand-still by a very disagreeable circumstance. 
A turnpike gate stood half way between Mexico and 
San Augustin. Just as I came within sight of it, I 
made the disagreeable discovery that I had not the 
real necessary for passing me through the gate. Wish- 
ing to give myself time for reflection, I walked my 
horse slowly along, but the fatal turnpike came al- 
ways nearer and nearer. I was just going to turn my 
horse's head round and gallop back, when by chance 
the Franciscan who had cleaned me out came up. 
The lucky winner addressed me most politely, and I 
replied in the most courteous manner. He offered to 
accompany me to Mexico ; and the secret hope of be- 
ing able to pass the gate at the Franciscan's expense 
doubtless made me accept his offer with so much alac- 
rity. I fancied that I was doing no more than an act 
of politeness in congratulating my companion on his 
run of good luck. But what was my surprise when 
he exclaimed, with a sigh, " Confound it ! I was quite 
cleaned out down there ; I have nothing — nothing but 
my debts. I must say that I counted upon you to 
pass me through." 

I confessed that I was just about to beg the same 
favor of him. Upon this the Franciscan fell into such 
convulsions of laughter that, in spite of myself, I could 
not help joining him heartily. We then deliberated 
what course to pursue. We hit upon several ludi- 
crous expedients, but they were rejected one after the 
other. After some discussion, we decided that it 
would be best to clear the turnpike at a gallop with- 
out paying. " We will pay double the next time we 
pass," said the monk. Having thus disposed of this 
case of conscience, he spurred his steed ; I followed. 



THE MONASTERY. 51 

We soon left the pikemen behind us ; and our horses 
flying at full speed, a thick cloud of dust soon hid us 
from their sight. Once at Mexico, it may be easily 
understood that we did not part without agreeing to 
meet again. A card-table, it must be owned, is rather 
an extraordinary place for one to strike up a friend- 
ship with a monk. 

The acquaintance thus commenced promised to be 
agreeable, and a few days after our first meeting I re- 
paired to the convent of St. Francisco, the abode of 
my friend. After this visit I went often, at first for 
the Franciscan's sake, and afterward to see the con- 
vent, the most beautiful building of the kind in Mex- 
ico. To tell the truth, Fray Serapio was seldom in 
his cell ; but his friendship insured me a constant 
welcome at the monastery, the library of which pos- 
sessed inexhaustible treasures. 

None of the religious communities scattered over 
Mexico is so rich or powerful as that of St. Francis. 
The vast extent of ground covered by the Franciscan 
convents in all the large towns, and the massive walls, 
crowned with numerous turrets, which surround them, 
are sufficient indications of the power and wealth of 
the order. The monastery to which chance had in- 
troduced me is at once worthy of the community that 
owns it, and of the capital of which it is one of the 
chief ornaments. The street of San Francisco, which 
leads to the cloister of this name, is a continuation of 
that crowded commercial street, the Plateros. The 
cloister, happily situated in the most stirring part of 
the town, rises at the extremity of the street Francis- 
co, and extends as far as the entrance to the Alameda. 
The thick walls, flanked with massive buttresses, give 
to the convent the appearance of a fortress. At the 



52 THE MONASTERY. 

same time, the spires, which shoot up into the air, and 
the fine cupolas, covered with burnished tiles, gave 
clear indications of the character of the building. You 
arrive at the principal chapel by a vast flagged court, 
which is always crowded with sight-seers, visitors, the 
faithful, and the poor. Opposite the first court is an 
in closure reserved for the monks. The immense clois- 
ters, ornamented with basins inlaid with white jasper, 
gardens, a rich library, new dormitories, three hundred 
cells, a refectory, in which three hundred persons can 
sit down to dinner, combine to form a spectacle at 
once imposing and magnificent, which surpasses even 
the expectation of the visitor who enters the convent 
after having admired its exterior. 

All my leisure hours, on Sundays especially, I 
loved to bury myself in the huge dusty library, and to 
ransack archives of which even the monks themselves 
were quite ignorant. Two books, above all, captiva- 
ted me completely ; one was a volume of legendary 
stories, the other a collection of autos defe, executed 
by the Mexican Inquisition. I forgot even the lapse 
of time while reading them. These atrocious recitals, 
which the cold-blooded chronicler always sums up 
with Laus Deo, exercised upon me, especially when 
the day was waning, a singular fascination. The dis- 
tant droning of the organ, and the doleful chanting of 
the monks, sometimes deepened the impression ; and, 
in the mysterious gloom which had already enveloped 
the hall, I fancied I saw rise before me the heroes of 
the legendary stories, or the victims of the Inquisi- 
tion. When I came out of the library, and walked in 
the cloisters, the monks whom I met in the dark cor- 
ridors seemed to me to bear no resemblance whatever 
to those I had seen upholding the dignity of the cowl 



THE CONVENT GARDEN. Od 

in the streets of Mexico. There are two sorts of 
monks in the convent : monks still young enough to 
delight in a monte table and in a tertulia, and who 
are never in their cells ; others whose age and infirm- 
ities prevent them from mixing with the world : these 
last form the settled population, which is not a very 
numerous one. Among the monks whom I met in 
the corridors of San Francisco, there was one, above 
all, who seemed to me to personify the convent life, 
with all its attendants of gloomy observance and se- 
cret penance. He was an old man, with a shining 
bald head; a kind of awe, mingled with curiosity, 
seized me whenever I saw him. I could have sworn 
that-one of those sombre pictures upon the walls of 
the convent, from the pencil of Eodriguez, Cabrera, or 
Villalpando, had left its frame and come to life again. 
Sometimes I mused away an idle hour in the gar- 
den ; for, all the time I was in Mexico, solitude was 
peculiarly pleasing to me. Since my arrival in Mex- 
ico, years had been added to years, and I began to 
experience attacks of home-sickness. The unvarying 
deep blue sky, so unlike that of France, rather in- 
creased my sadness. The appearance of the convent 
garden, surrounded on all sides by lofty walls, was in 
perfect harmony with the melancholy thoughts which 
had taken possession of my mind. The sun had cal- 
cined the brick walls, upon which opened the windows 
of the tenantless cells. Weeds were growing here 
and there on a terrace shaded with the wide-spread- 
ing branches of the sycamore, the palma christi, and 
the mango. An arbor, ornamented with climbing- 
plants, was the place to which I most frequently di- 
rected my steps. There, under a flowery arch, where 
the passion-flower, that favorite plant of the cloisters, 



54 THE CONVENT GARDEN. 

tlie jasmine, and the clematis, with its beautiful flow- 
ers, grew in charming confusion, I passed many long 
hours, dreaming of my native country and absent 
friends, A mysterious charm drew me to this fresh 
and rustic retreat. A quaint device, cut on the trunk 
of a sycamore, which threw its branches across my 
bower, often attracted my attention : Tn silentio et in 
sjpe erit fortitudo tua. My soul felt strengthened 
and soothed in this solitude. In this wild and uncul- 
tivated garden I was charmed into a forgetfulness of 
the world, where the only sounds that reminded me 
of life were the buzzing of the humming-birds among 
the rose-bushes, the tinkling of bells, and the distant 
droning of the organ. 

I scarcely ever saw any one in the garden. One 
monk only seemed to share with me a predilection for 
this peaceful inclosure, and, above all, for the arbor, 
from which I almost always saw him escaping at my 
approach. He was the same man whom I had so oft- 
en watched in the cloisters with such a fearful curios- 
ity. Sometimes I surprised him watering the garden 
borders, or giving his care to those flowers which grew 
near the grass-grown walks. My imagination soon 
found some romantic link between this melancholy old 
man and the forsaken bower. I resolved to enter into 
conversation with him. A conscience so troubled as 
his seemed to be might surely be able to make some 
curious revelations ; but, after repeated attempts to 
rouse him from his habitual taciturnity, I was forced 
to give it up as hopeless. With hands crossed, and 
face turned to the ground, the monk, every time he 
met me, quickened his pace and vanished from my 
sight. I looked at him always with intense interest, 
as the intellect7ial tliough stern expression of his fea- 



THE YIGA CANAL, 5o 

tures contrasted strikingly with the vacant faces of the 
other monks. His face, which sometimes betrayed 
painful dejection, sometimes a fanatical joy, reminded 
me at times of the wonderful legends and dismal sto- 
ries which I had Ibeen reading in the convent library. 
Was I right in iny conjectures about this singular per- 
sonage ? Despairing of success in my endeavors to 
induce the monk to break silence, I resolved to ques- 
tion Fray Serapio about him; and, with the hope of 
meeting the jolly Franciscan, I directed my steps to 
one of the most charming spots in the environs of Mex- 
ico, the canal of Viga. 



CHAPTER II. 

The Viga Canal. 



NowHEEE in Mexico could there be found a spot 
which presents an appearance more different, accord- 
ing to the seasons of the year, than the Viga Canal. 
No place is by turns more solitary or more crowded, 
more noisy or more silent. This canal, about twenty- 
four miles long, mixes its waters with the lake on 
which Chalco stands, and forms a means of transport 
and communication between that town and Mexico. 
A broad open road, planted with aspens and poplars, 
runs along its sleeping waters. If the pedestrian did 
not observe, at some distance from the highway, the 
buildings which inclose the bull-ring, and, farther off, 
the towers of the Cathedral, above which shoot up the 
two mighty volcanoes of Mexico, he might fancy him- 
self three hundred miles from the city. Some coun- 
try houses, whose inhabitants are always invisible : 



56 EASTER FETES. 

the deserted paths of the Candelaria, a rival road to 
the Viga ; lakelets scattered here and there in the midst 
of teeming vegetation, on whose surface float chinam- 
pas* looking like large baskets ; a solitary vaquero 
hut here and there in the plain ; then a range of hills 
overtopped by the sierra, form the principal features in 
the landscape. A placid stillness reigns over every 
part of the picture. Sometimes a pirogue is seen 
gliding noiselessly on the canal, sometimes a group of 
Indians kneeling in some grove before a Christ that 
they are decking with flowers, at whose feet they are 
piously depositing oranges and grenadilles, oflerings 
which savor strongly of paganism. The flapping of 
the wings of an aigret hovering over the water, or that 
is losing itself in the blue sky, and the baying of some 
dogs prowling about, are the only sounds which break 
the stillness on this shady road. But at the approach 
of the Easter fetes the road assumes quite a difierent 
appearance. Every Sunday in Lent, the entire popu- 
lation of Mexico assembles here, and a noisy crowd 
streams along the way. The day on which I went to 
the canal was the last Sunday in Lent. On reaching 
the road, I found the habitual promenaders of the Pa- 
seo and Alameda crowding every spot of the ground 
in the Viga ; but it was not the crowd which chiefly 
attracted me, it was the canal itself. On that day, the 
reeds on the bank, ordinarily so still, waved and jos- 
tled to and fro under the continual motion of the wa- 
ter, produced by the passing and repassing of num- 
berless fleets of boats. Launches, canoes, pirogues, 
were constantly coming and going; some conveying 
to Mexico, for the Holy Week, immense quantities of 
flowers, which diffused a most delightful odor around, 
* Floating islands. 



ASPECT OF THE CANAL.' 57 

Other boats followed, crowded with light-hearted, mer- 
ry passengers, wearing wreaths of wild poppy and 
sweet pea, and dancing on the deck to the inspiring 
strains of harps, flutes, and mandolins. Light-hearted 
Cyprians, in gamesome mood, scattered upon the breeze 
the purple buds of their wreaths, and trolled out cho- 
ruses of lascivious songs. The clear sky, the dazzling 
brilliancy of the different costumes, and the soft, sweet 
melody of the language, brought to my mind the na- 
tional festivals of ancient Greece ; while the canal, 
which seemed at times suddenly transformed into a 
carpet of flowers, generally had the appearance of a 
moving mass of canoes, which shot past one another 
in all directions ; groups of people, lying lazily on the 
bank, bantered the boatmen as they passed. Farther 
off, under the green arcades formed by the aspens upon 
the road, which shook under the roll of carriages and 
gallop of horses, paraded the gay fashionables of Mex- 
ico. Parties of high-spirited, wild-looking cavaliers, 
dressed in the national costume, sauntered up and 
down amid this gay throng as if protesting by their 
rough manners against the whimsical appearance of 
the dandies habited in French style. 

A striking contrast was observable to the spectator. 
Upon the canal one saw America in the sixteenth 
century, which, under the beaming sun of the tropics, 
had abandoned herself without constraint to pleasure. 
Upon the road was America in the nineteenth century, 
seeking to model its native appearance on the worn- 
out type of Europe. By way of compensation, a few 
Europeans, habited in the ancient Mexican costume, 
at times appeared on the Viga ; but beneath their 
dress you could distinguish at a glance the English- 
man, the Frenchman, or the German. I must say, 
C 2 



58 1 MEET WITH FRIENDS. 

however, that our compatriots of the South were dis- 
tmguished above all the other foreigners for the ease 
and grace with which they wore the national costume. 

Evening was drawing on, darkness was coming down 
over the surrounding -country, and the moving picture 
before me was rapidly dissolving, when I perceived 
four horsemen seemingly making their way toward me. 
I could not at first distinguish their features, their 
faces being partly concealed by the wide-spreading 
sotribreros, trimmed with broad ribbons, which they 
wore ; but their appearance caused me to suspect them. 
These men, dressed in inangas and sarapes, seemed 
to be hemming me in with the intention of opposing 
my passage. They immediately spurred their horses 
and galloped up to me. " Stand!" cried a threaten- 
ing voice ; and, at the same moment, the four horse- 
men surrounded me. They were neither robbers nor 
alguazils, but men whose amiable character and joy- 
ous temperament I often had occasion to appreciate. 
In one I recognized Don Diego Mercado, student of 
theology in the college of St. John de Lateran ; in an- 
other, the officer Don Bias ; the third was the hidalgo, 

Don Romulo D F , a political marplot, who 

could never be satisfied with the government of the 
day, but was always looking about for an opportunity 
to overturn it, who was admitted, notwithstanding this 
weakness, into the highest society in Mexico ; the 
fourth was one whom I would have least expected to 
find in a company like the present, and in such a dis- 
guise : it was no other, in truth, than my worthy friend, 
Fray Serapio. 

"Do I really see the Reverend Fray Serapio?" I 
exclaimed. "Do I really see my friend under this 
bandit costume ?" 



I. ACCOMPANY Ml' FKIEXDS. 59 

""Tut!" said the Franciscan; "I am traveling in- 
cog. ; I shall tell you why some other time." 

"Good," said I to the monk; "I have something 
to ask you which interests me as much." 

"You are one of ourselves," cried the officer, "and 
we are going to conduct you to a place out of Mexico, 
where we intend to finish the Holy Week." 

" Where is it ?" I inquired. 

"You will know when you get there," replied the 
hidalgo. " I know you are a lover of adventures : 
well, I promise you some, and of a strange enough 
kind." 

This was taking me on my weak side, and I ac- 
cepted the offer without troubling myself any farther 
as to its whereabouts. I was, besides, in full travel- 
ing costume ; and an excursion by night was, above 
all, highly agreeable to me. We alighted, and thread- 
ed our way through the crowd ; then leaving it, we 
struck along the Candelaria road, and, remounting, 
pursued a northerly direction. I fell behind the rest 
and joined Fray Serapio, and again renewed my in- 
quiries about his disguise. On our first acquaintance 
the monk seemed to my taste too shy and distrustful, 
but I soon hit upon a sure way of stripping him of 
these unsocial qualities. I feigned to make the Chris- 
tian virtues of my venerable friend the theme of my 
warm admiration ; and Serapio, who had the high am- 
bition, a singular one in a monk, of passing for a rake, 
replied to my eulogiums by some revelations about the 
old monk which did not redound greatly to his credit. 
At this time, too, the expedient succeeded as ft ordi- 
narily did. The Franciscan assured me, with a con- 
trite air, that he had put on this disa'uise by the will 
of God! 



60 SERAPIO'S PIETY. — MOONLIGHT SCENE. 

"As you always do," I rejoined, gravely; "you 
o"bey him implicitly, like a humble servant." 

The monk bowed and quickened his horse's pace. 

"It has pleased God," replied he, "to deprive his 
servant of his robes for the purpose of saving the soul 
of a Christian who is about to quit this world." 

" St. Martin gave to the poor only a half of his cloak. 
What was his charity in comparison with yours ?" 

The Franciscan shrugged his shoulders. 

"Alas I" he muttered, "it is a rich man who has 
my gown, and I don't deserve to be compared to St. 
Martin." 

" I am well aware that the most noble virtues are 
often modestly hidden from the world." 

Wearied with my bantering, the monk dropped the 
mask entirely. 

"Faith!" he rephed, in a frank, open tone, "pietistic 
people prefer being interred in a monkish habit ; and, 
the more threadbare the garment, the higher they value 
it. My gown, on this account, is of an inestimable 
value. I sold it a short time ago for double its orig- 
inal cost ; and, besides the profit from the sale of it, I 
got a present of this costume which I am now wear- 
ing." 

The sun had now set ; and the moon, which was 
rising, diffused its beams over the solitary country. 
Arrived at the crest of a small eminence, I looked back 
upon the canals and the plains of the Viga, which, un- 
der the brilliant night of the tropics, appeared to me 
under quite a new aspect. The moon had lighted up 
the lagoons, the canal, and the road. They were all 
now silent. The most profound stillness had taken 
the place of the stir and hum of the busy crowd ; the 
silence was broken only by the distant bellowing of 



AN INDIAN VILLAGE. 61 

the bulls in the savannas. The fire-flies sparkled in 
the high grass, and the watch-fires of the shepherds 
shone here and there in the fields. 



CHAPTER III. 

An Indian Village. 



We had now Tbeen for some time on the road, and 
the night was getting darker and darker. The moon, 
which up to this time had lighted our way, was now 
becoming gradually encircled with a halo — a had omen. 
At last it finally disappeared in a dense bank of clouds 
on the verge of the horizon. From time to time a yel- 
lowish sheet of lightning shot through the dark mass, 
and brought out, in strong relief, the dense blackness 
which enveloped the country around. The instinct of 
our horses alone kept us right in the thick darkness. 
The barking of dogs announced our approach to some 
solitary cabin by the wayside ; sometimes we charged 
unwillingly among a herd of pigs which were lying 
wallowing in the ruts of the road, and which trotted 
off grunting in the darkness. In the midst of this 
savage scene, surrounded with the lurid light produced 
by the flashes, which were following each other in quick 
succession, we looked more like some country smug- 
glers out on an expedition than peaceful travelers on 
an excursion of pleasure. 

We had already passed through the village of Tac- 
ubaya, and were struggling onward in the mountain 
road which leads to Toluca. I knew nothing of the 
road they were leading me. That was of httle import- 
ance, provided we reached our place of destination be- 



62 IN THE SADDLE, 

fore the bursting of the storm, which announced its ap- 
proach by distant peals of thunder. We soon arrived 
at a rising ground, round the foot of which ran a pine 
wood. There a halt was called to breathe our horses. 
The clouds of dust we had swallowed rendered some 
refreshment necessary. A skin of Valdepeiias wine, 
which the officer Don Bias carried at his saddle-bow, 
was passed round, and served for a moment to quench 
the burning thirst which had begun to torment us. 1 
profited by this opportunity to renew my inquiries 
about our place of destination. The theological stu- 
dent undertook to satisfy my curiosity. 

" I have been invited," said he, "to spend the Eas- 
ter holidays at the hacienda of a friend of mine, about 
a dozen leagues from here ; I thought it no bad thing 
to give my friend the honor of receiving a few more 
guests, and I am sure you will all be very welcome." 

The hidalgo Don Romulo, on his part, was not un- 
willing to allow, during his absence, the agitation 
caused by a very violent pamphlet which he had writ- 
ten against the government of the republic to subside, 
while he was anxious, at the same time, to visit the 
ruins of a celebrated convent, the Desierto, which was 
on our way. The officer hoped to escape in the De- 
sierto and the hacienda the importunities of his nu- 
merous creditors, and was disposed to make himself 
happy in every place but where they were. As for 
Fray Serapio, he confessed that, having been forced, 
as he might call it, to purchase a habit ill suited to a 
monk, he had embraced with delight the invitation of 
his friend, Don Diego Mercado. 

" And yet I got a hundred piastres for my old hab- 
it," added the Franciscan, gloomily, taking another 
pull at the skin of Valdepeiias. 



A CONFESSION. — A VILLAGE. 63 

"That's where your soft-heartedness leads you," 
said I. "You have doubtless flung it away in charity." 

'''■MorL cher (these were the only French words that 
Fray Scrapie knew, and he made use of them on all 
occasions), know then, once for all, that I don't deserve 
your praises. Nature cut me out for a soldier, but 
conventionality made me a monk." 

The Franciscan confessed, readily enough, that when 
he was on the point of buying a new frock, an incon- 
ceivable distraction made him spend the money on 
other things quite useless for a man, and, above all, 
for a monk ; things which — (Fray Serapio whispered 
the remainder in my ear). The skin of Valdepeiias 
being now half empty, we resumed our journey. Large 
drops of rain began to fall ; the storm was going to 
burst over us in all its fury. To push on was our 
only resource. Stimulated by a secret instinct, our 
horses increased their pace. Sometimes they shyed 
or stopped suddenly, terrified at the fantastic forms of 
some projecting root, or the sudden growl of the thun- 
der ; but these annoyances were only temporary, and 
we flew over the ground with inconceivable swiftness. 
We descried at last, in a plain, a little Indian village, 
still more than a league in advance. We covered this 
league in a few minutes, and entered the village, sa- 
luted by a legion of hungry dogs, who snarled and bit 
at our horses' heels. Our arrival set every one in mo- 
tion. Copper-colored faces appeared and disappeared 
at the doors of the huts. We were asking ourselves, 
in no small consternation, if we must give up all hopes 
of finding a shelter in a place where every door seem- 
ed to be shut against us, when Fray Serapio, catch- 
ing an Indian by his long hair, forced him to lead us 
to a house that did duty for an inn. 



64 THE PARLEY. 

Scarcely had we stopped before the door of the pre- 
tended hostelry than a great hulking fellow, one of 
the half-breeds so numerous in Mexico, very easily 
known by his complexion, opene.d one of the leaves of 
the door, which was secured by the invariable iron 
chain. This was the master of the inn, who had come 
to parley with us. 

*' I have neither stables, nor maize, nor straw to 
oifer your lordships," said the half-breed, in a gruff 
tone ; " be so good, then, as to continue your journey." 

*' Go to the devil," said the officer, " with your 
straw, your maize, and your stables ; all we want is a 
room fit for Christians and officers. Open, or I will 
smash the door to pieces." 

To give full force to his threat. Captain Don Bias 
struck the door such a furious blow with his sabre, 
that the huesped, in a fright, dropped the chain, and, 
excusing himself for his obstinacy by the plea that 
there were a great number of suspicious characters . 
abroad, ushered us into an apartment little better than 
a stable. 

"I hope," cried Don Bomulo, putting his pocket 
handkerchief to his nose, " that we sha'n't be obliged 
to pass the night in this cursed hole !" 

" You are very squeamish, mon cher^'' said Fray 
Serapio ; " the room seems tolerable enough." 

In spite of this assertion, we determined to push on 
after the storm had passed. We remained, then, stand- 
ing till we could take the road again, as we wished to 
reach the hacienda as quickly as possible, where a 
hospitable reception had been promised us. I thought 
this halt presented a favorable opportunity for making 
some inquiries about the mysterious monk I had met 
in the garden of San Francisco. To my first question : 



A SUDDEN APPARITION. 65 

"I can guess whom you are inquiring albout," said 
Fray Serapio, shaking his head; "it is Fray Epig- 
menio whom you saw in the arbor in the garden of the 
convent, of which you and he are the only visitants. 
A trial, to which he was subjected by the Inquisition, 
turned the head of the poor soul, and for fifty years his 
life has been only one long penance." 

"Well, I'll tell you frankly," I rejoined, "I had a 
suspicion that some painful mystery was wrapped up 
in the life of this man. I counted upon you for its 
solution, and it was you I was in search of when chance 
brought us together on the Viga." 

The monk was about to reply;r when an extraordi- 
nary noise arose in the court-yard of the jposada, which 
was suddenly lit up by the red glow of torches. Al- 
most at the same moment a man, whom from his cop- 
per-colored visage and strange costume we easily knew 
to be an Indian, entered, followed by several inhabit- 
ants of the village, some carrying torches, others bran- 
dishing knotty clubs, some even with bows, and ar- 
rows in reed quivers. The Indian who seemed to be 
the chief of the party advanced, and told us that, as 
our noisy arrival had disturbed the peace of the vil- 
lage, the alcalde wished to see us without delay. 

"And what if we don't want to see the alcalde?" 
said the officer. 

" You will then be taken by force," said the Indian, 
pointing to his armed escort. This gesture was suffi- 
cient. It was impossible for us to resist, for the min- 
isters of Indian justice had very prudently seized our 
horses and arms. We looked at one another in no 
small dismay. The Indian mansos, who rule their 
villages according to the laws of the republic, and 
even choose from their brothers of the same race their 



(56 A RELIGIOUS PROCESSION. 

municipal magistracy, Tbeliave in the most merciless 
manner to all the Mexicans who may have committed 
any crimes in the district intrusted to their care. The 
worst of all cruelties, the cruelty of weakness, is re- 
sorted to on such occasions. It was quite useless to 
struggle against those sturdy rough alguazils with the 
bare legs and long hair. We went quietly enough to 
the house of the alcalde. 

"Have patience," said Fray Serapio to me, in a 
low voice, while going along: " instead of the histor}' 
of Fray Epigmenio, which I will tell you at some oth- 
er time, you will behold a sight which few foreigners 
have an opportunity of seeing in Mexico. If I am not 
mistaken,~^we have fallen upon this cursed village at 
the very time when the Indians celebrate, in their way, 
the fetes of the Holy Week. The house of the alcalde 
is one of the ordinary resting-places of their nocturnal 
processions." 

I had often heard of these singular ceremonies, in 
which the remains of Indian idolatry are mixed up 
with the rites of Catholicism. Just when I Avas go- 
ing to reply to Fray Serapio, some melancholy mo- 
notonous sounds met our ears. The plaintive wail of 
the reed flute, called by the Indians chirimia, was 
sadly intermingled with the tapping of several drums 
struck at regular intervals. 

"Three hundred years ago," said Don Diego Mer- 
cado to me in a whisper, " it was to the sound of these 
chirhnias that the ancestors of these Indians butchered 
their human victims at the feet of their idols." 

Round a lane, which ran at right angles to the road, 
came the procession whose approach was announced 
by this funereal music. Engaged during the day in 
cultivating their grounds, the Indians devote the night 



A EELIGIOUS PROCESSION. 67 

to certain religious solemnities. The time thus adds 
to the lugubrious effect of their ceremonies. At the 
head of the procession, borne by four men, was an im- 
age of Christ, of a hideously gigantic form, bedabbled 
with blood. At the two arms of the cross hung two 
Christs of a smaller size ; behind came a disorderly 
throng of Indians from the village and its environs, 
carrying crosses of all shapes and dimensions. I re- 
marked that the size of several of the crosses was by 
no means in harmony with the height of the person 
who carried them ; their dimensions were, in fact, only 
regulated by the higher or lower sum paid by the per- 
son who wished to figure in these processions. The 
most splendid images were carried in the van by the 
head men of the village ; the poorer inhabitants fol- 
lowed, and nothing could be imagined more grotesque, 
more sadly ludicrous than this motley crowd of tatter- 
demalions ; some, too poor to purchase Christs, were 
carrying little images of the saints ; others, less lucky 
still, were forced to hoist on long poles, for want of bet- 
ter, faded pieces of colored cloth and tawdry tinsel, 
while some had even been forced to carry hen-coops. 
We bent the knee respectfully as this singular pro- 
cession slowly wended its way through the streets, 
while the odd collection of hideous and incongruous 
objects, and the grotesque faces of the men, lighted up 
by the dim, ruddy glare of the pine torches, and seen 
through the smoke, struck us as being more like some 
infernal procession revisiting this earth than a body 
of Christians engaged in the celebration of a religious 
festival. 

We arrived at the alcalde's house. The sinister 
appearance of this Indian magistrate did not tend to 
soothe our apprehensions. Long gray hair, encircling 



68 AN INDIAN MAGISTRATE. 

a face deeply furrowed with wrinkles, flowed down be- 
hind to the middle of his back ; his muscular arms 
were hardlj covered by the sleeves of his sayal (a tu- 
nic with short sleeves) ; his shrunken, sinewy legs 
were only half covered by his flapping trowsers of cat- 
zoneras skin. On his feet were leather sandals. In 
such a dress this singular personage seated himself, 
with an air of comic grandeur, under a sort of canopy 
formed by the branches of xocopan (a kind of sweet- 
smelling laurel). The red-skin alguazils ranged them- 
selves behind like a group of stage supernumeraries. 
We were now asked, "Who and what are you?" 
This question, delivered in bad Spanish, was put to 
Fray Serapio, whom his long beard, jaunty costume, 
and free manners had undoubtedly caused the alcalde 
to regard as the most suspicious of the party. The 
monk hesitated. The alcalde continued : 

" When people come with arms to a village, it is to 
be presumed they have a right to carry arms. Can 
you prove your right ?" 

It was, then, to examine us as to our right of carry- 
ing arms that we had been arrested. The alcalde 
thought he had us in a trap, and would have an op- 
portunity of inflicting upon us, without going beyond 
the strict letter of the law, some of those petty insults, 
for which opportunities are eagerly seized on, to satis- 
fy the traditionary hatred of the Indians against the 
whites. We understood this perfectly, but we could 
not counterplot him. We were all obliged to make 
the same reply. We were traveling incognito, and had 
no right to carry arms. With the exception of the 
monk, who seemed ill at ease in his disguise, we were 
eager to tell our names and quality. As it was a 
point of the very highest importance to let the Indians 



IN A DIFFICULTY. 69 

know the powerful protectors we had in Mexico, the 
student fancied he was acting prudently when he said 
that he was the nephew of the most celebrated apothe- 
cary in the city. The clerk wrote down the answer, 
stopping every now and then to break in pieces little 
branches of xocopan. As for the alcalde, he seemed 
to triumph at having in his power five of the enemies 
of his race. When the student avowed his relation- 
ship to the Mexican apothecary, the wily Indian did 
not consider himself foiled. He seemed lost in 
thought ; but suddenly an expression of malignant 
joy shot across his features as he hastily put this 
question to Don Diego : 

"If you are the nephew of an apothecary, you must 
know something of botany?" 

Don Diego replied in the aflSrmative, with an air of 
perfect satisfaction. 

"You must, then, be acquainted with the virtues of 
Tnatlalquahuitl V 

The alcalde had intentionally chosen a strange Mex- 
ican plant very little known, with an Indian name of 
the most uncouth sound. When he saw the blank 
look that immediately appeared on the countenance of 
the student, he guessed that his ruse was successful, 
and he rubbed his hands with an air of satisfaction. 
You know nothing of botany ; you were trying to cheat 
me ; you are not the nephew of an apothecary ; you 
have all a suspicious air about you. I have a right to 
detain you, and I'll do it, too. Such was the reason- 
ing which we saw written on the face of the alcalde, 
who looked with a cool air of disdain both on Don 
Diego Mercado and on us. At this moment the relig- 
ious fete, in which the alcalde had to play an import- 
ant part, luckily created a diversion in our favor by 



70 AN INDIAN CHRIST. 

putting a stop to this examination. A band of Indians 
hurriedly entered the room. They dragged along, or 
rather pushed before them, a man crowned with a 
wreath of rushes, and draped in a tattered red cloak 
which had very probably been used as a muleta* in a 
bull-fight. His face and body were quite bespattered 
with mud. I looked at this man with astonishment 
as a living enigma, when the student, who was better 
acquainted with the manners of the Indians than with 
the virtues of the inatlalquahuitl, said, in a low tone, 

" There is nothing in this but a religious joke. They 
are going to get up here a dramatic representation of 
the Passion. We are no longer in an Indian village, 
but in Jerusalem. This fellow with the bespattered 
face personates Christ, and the alcalde, confound him ! 
is Pilate." 

In fact, we were about to have produced before us 
all the scenes of a genuine mystery of the Middle Ages. 
The alcalde, seated under his canopy of laurel, having 
gravely listened to the calumnious accusations of the 
Jews, rose and pronounced in the Indian tongue the 
historical sentence of condemnation. Such a storm of 
cries and yells greeted the sentence, that the unfortu- 
nate lepero (for it was one of that class, who, for a few 
reals, was personating Christ) seemed to think that the 
drama was becoming rather too serious. He cried out 
in Spanish, 

" Caramba ! I think it would have been better had 
I taken the part of the good thief. Seiior Alcalde, 
don't forget to pay me three reals more for personating 
the Divine Redeemer ! " 

"You are a fine fellow!" said the alcalde, pushing 
the lepero back, who, in violation of all historical truth, 
* A red cloth shaken before the bull for the purpose of exciting him. 



A MELEE. THE MAGISTEATE NONPLUSED. , 71 

took refuge in the tribunal itself. At the same time, 
one of the soldiers who surrounded the Christ, more 
faithful to his part than the bespattered lepero, struck 
him a smart blow on the cheek. The lepero could con- 
tain himself no longer ; he rapped out a fearful oath, 
and struck out right and left at his astonished perse- 
cutors. There was a general meMe ; a fierce struggle 
arose between the actor, who had completely forgotten 
the spirit of his part, and the Indians, who attacked 
him with a vigor worthy of the agents of Herod. The 
contest was brought to an end by a heroic sacrifice on 
the part of the alcalde, who, to overcome the obstinacy 
of the lepero, promised him six reals more than he was 
originally entitled to. On this condition the fellow 
agreed to walk to Calvary in the midst of the Indians. 
They dragged him along to the place of execution, 
dealing him a more than ordinary allowance of blows. 
This business finished, the alcalde returned to us. 
He had pronounced the sentence upon the pretended 
Christ with an ill-disguised anxiety. When we saw 
him conversing with the clerk, I looked somewhat de- 
jectedly at the monk. To my amazement, a smile 
appeared on his lips which set me completely at my 
ease. The cause of this sudden change in Fray Sera- 
pio was soon explained. To avoid the imprisonment 
which he saw impending over us, he resolved to appeal 
to the religious feelings of the alcalde and his follow- 
ers, of which they had just given such striking proofs. 
Fray Serapio had reasoned justly. Just when the al- 
calde was rising to pronounce our sentence, the monk 
gravely approached the tribunal, snatched off the neck- 
erchief which encircled his head, and showed the In- 
dian magistrate his tonsure. This was truly a theat- 
rical stroke. The man who, scarcely a second before. 



72 WE GALLOP OFF. 

•was affecting to look upon us with such stubborn pride, 
threw himself trembling and confused at the feet of the 
Franciscan. 

" Ah ! holy father," cried the Indian, " why did you 
not discover yourself sooner? Taking every thing into 
consideration, one can be an honest man without know- 
ing the virtues of matlalquahuitl. " 

Fray Serapio need not have answered the terrified 
Indian. He condescended to confess that, under this 
disguise and with this escort, he was traveling to ex- 
ecute a mission of religious interest ; and the alcalde, 
who crossed himself devoutly at every word of the 
monk, took good care not to press him with imprudent 
questions. An instant after, we marched majestically 
out of the cabin into which our entrance had been so 
humble and crestfallen. The Indians returned us our 
arms and horses. They pressed us in vain to return 
to the hostelry where we had been so scurvily wel- 
comed. We were very ill pleased at the reception 
they had given us ; and, in spite of the thunder, which 
had again begun to growl, we galloped out of the vil- 
lage without lending an ear to their entreaties. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Fray Epigmenio. 



Already the Indian village lay a league behind us. 
The route we were pursuing was through a ravine, the 
road through which could with difficulty be believed 
to have been made by the hand of man. We soon 
entered a pine forest which ran along a chain of pre- 
cipitous hills. The darkness, which was rendered 



NO PLACE FOE STOEY-TELLING. 73 

thicker by the interlaced branches of the trees over- 
head, was so profound that our horses could literally 
advance only by the gleam of the vivid flashes of 
lightning. Soon the storm increased ; the trunks of 
the pines cracked and swayed to and fro in the wind, 
and the hollows in the mountains resounded with the 
multiplied echoes of terrific thunder-claps. The flash- 
es now became less and less frequent, and at last, the 
intermittent gleams, which had hitherto lightened our 
advance, failed us entirely. A deafening thunder-clap 
was followed by a torrent of rain. It had now be- 
come impossible for us either to advance or to regain 
the road. Forced to remain immovable like equestri- 
an statues, we were obliged to shout to one another to 
find out our respective positions. I then discovered 
that I was very near Fray Serapio. The voices of 
our three companions reached us like a distant echo 
borne along amid the whistling of the squall. We at 
last found ourselves separated from one another, with- 
out any probable hope of joining each other during 
the whole night, each of us being forced to stay where 
the darkness had overtaken him, exposed to all the 
dangers of the forest. 

" Since we are condemned to remain here, as mo- 
tionless as the statue of Charles IV. in Mexico," said 
I to the Franciscan, " don't you think this is a very 
good opportunity for telling me the history of your 
friend. Fray Epigmenio ?" 

" Fray Epigmenio ! " cried the monk. "This is not 
a story suited either to the time or place. When I 
hear the trees groaning like spirits in Purgatory, and 
the torrents raging like wild beasts, I have not the 
courage to go over a history that is frightful enough 
in itself." 

P 



74 OUK PERILOUS POSITION. 

A long pause followed. Where are we?" I at last 
asked. 

"We ought to be only a mile and a half from the 
Desierto. We have kept on the right road ; hut I 
have strong fears that we have got entangled in a ra- 
vine, from which escape is almost impossible amid this 
darkness. In a few hours, should the rain continue, 
this ravine wiU be no longer a road, but a torrent, that 
will carry us along on its rushing waters like dead 
leaves. God succor our poor souls!" He crossed 
himself devoutly. 

I had seen too often in America torrents suddenly 
swollen by thunder-showers to such a degree as to up- 
root trees a hundred years old, and carry down rocks, 
to doubt for a moment the imminent danger of which 
I had been apprised by Fray Serapio. To this dis- 
heartening reply I had but one answer to make — we 
must have a fire, at any price. Unluckily, the monk 
had left his flint and steel with the student. I was 
not discouraged, however ; and, unwilling to throw 
away any chance of extricating ourselves from our dis- 
agreeable position, I alighted from my horse, took in 
one of my hands the reata attached to the neck of the 
animal, and with the other tried to guide myself while 
holding on to the rocks. I was not long in finding my 
progress stopped by a precipitous bluff. I tried the 
other side ; always a perpendicular wall of rock. 
Forced at last to stop after having unrolled the reata 
to its utmost length, I came back step by step to 
my horse, and, gathering it up again in my hand, re- 
mounted. 

" This ravine is in truth a prison," said I. 

"It is not the torrent alone that I fear," replied the 
monk. " Even if we escape drowning, we may be 



THE STOEM AT ITS HEIGHT. 75 

burned to death if the trees are set on fire by the light- 
ning." 

^ " Could we not leave our horses here, and try to 
gain on foot a place less exposed to danger ?" 

" We run a risk of tumbling into some quagmire. 
By the way the wind hits my face, 1 know that this 
ravine is of great extent. Let us remain where we 
are, and trust to Divine Providence." 

I had exhausted all my expedients, and could find 
nothing to reply to those last words of Fray Serapio's, 
which were uttered in a truly mournful tone. Some 
moments passed. The storm was still at its height, 
and I could not shut my ears to its wild music. In 
the depths of the forests, a wail as of a thousand spir- 
its came booming on the wind ; torrents raged and 
dashed from rock to rock, the pines creaked like the 
masts of a vessel caught in a hard gale, and above our 
heads the wind whistled strangely among the leaves. 
During the temporary lulls of the tempest, we heard 
our companions, who, whether from ignorance or a 
wish to drown their sense of danger, were shouting 
and singing with all their might. 

" Don't you think," said I to the monk, "that this 
gayety is somewhat out of place ? I have a good mind 
to make them sensible of the danger they are running, 
to cause them to change their song for the ' De Pro- 
fiindis.'" 

" What good would that do ?" said the monk, gloom- 
ily. " Would it not be better for them to remain ig- 
norant of their danger, and let death surprise them in 
their joyous thoughtlessness ? At this moment, when 
the spirits of darkness are hovering about us, the hu- 
man voice seems to bring with it an undefinable charm, 
I have not yet told you the story of Fray Epigmenio. 



76 THE monk's stoey. 

I'll do it now. I would rather hear the sound of my 
own voice than the whistling of the wind among the 
firs. And now, when I think of it, it was in the con- 
vent of the Desierto, in the vicinity of this forest, and 
exactly at this time of the year, that the most interest- 
ing occurrence in the life of Fray Epigmenio took 
place." 

" This circumstance," said I, " must add particular 
interest to your recital ; but, at such a moment as this, 
I hardly feel disposed to listen to you. However, if 
you like to tell the story, I — " 

"Fray Epigmenio," began the Franciscan, interrupt- 
ing me, "was, even in his youth, but a melancholy 
companion. That is to say, he was not at all like me. 
Far from having wished, as I did, to be a soldier be- 
fore donning the monk's habit, he was, when a mere 
boy, admitted as a novice into the Carmelite convent 
of the Desierto. At the time I refer to, that is, fifty 
years ago, the Desierto was not abandoned as it is now. 
It was then a retreat inhabited by several monks, who 
wished, by thus withdrawing themselves from the cit- 
ies, to push austerity to its utmost limits. You may 
guess what influence a wild solitude like that would ex- 
ercise upon a weak brain. For my part, I don't think 
I should be long in my right mind were I to live in 
such a place. The superiors of the young novice were 
soon alarmed at the ferocious exultation that soon took 
the place of his former solid piety. They represented 
to Epigmenio that the devil, jealous of his merits, was 
setting a trap for him, into which he would fall. It 
was a wise advice ; but Epigmenio paid no heed to it. 
Worse than all, he isolated himself almost entirely 
from his brethren, and shut himself up more closely 
than ever in his cell — a sort of dark dungeon, whose 



THE monk's stoey. 77 

windows opened upon the wood which surrounded the 
convent. This was the gloomiest cell in this gloomy 
cloister. Fray Epigmenio had chosen it in preference 
to those whose windows looked out upon the garden. 
The sight of the flowers seemed to this rigid cenobite 
too much of a worldly pleasure. The heavy masses 
of the dark woods, constantly agitated by the wind, 
and surrounded by an amphitheatre ot rocks in fan- 
tastic forms, was the kind of landscape which had the 
greatest charm for Epigmenio. I told you before that 
the soundest head in the world could not long resist 
the combined influences of solitude and prayer. The 
monk confessed, when too late, that strange visions 
passed before his eyes in those long days of contem- 
plation and silence. Mysterious voices assailed his 
ears, and it was not always the concerts of angels that 
he heard : the murmurs of the forest were often changed 
into voluptuous sighs and — " 

At this moment the Franciscan suddenly paused, 
and, turning to me, said, "Are you listening?" 

" I confess," I rejoined, "that I am paying more at- 
tention to the noise of the water which is now rising 
about our feet." 

"Fray Epigmenio," said Serapio, without attending 
to my remark, "fancied himself a saint, since tempta- 
tions like these assailed him, and that he was strug- 
gling against the devil, like the monks in the old le- 
gends. One day, about sunset, not content to wait 
for the tempter in his cell, he resolved to beard him in 
the forest itself, which was peopled with such phan- 
toms. He had not wandered far among the pines 
when he heard the sound of stifled sobbing not far 
from him. He stopped and listened, and then ad- 
vanced in the direction from which the moaning seem- 



78 THE monk's stoey. 

ed to proceed. For a long time his search was fruit- 
less. At last, after many turnings and windings, he 
arrived at a glade in the wood, in the centre of which 
lay, on the turf, a man, who invited him by signs to 
approach. Fray Epigmenio hesitated a inoment. At 
last, having crossed himself devoutly, he falteringly ap- 
proached the wounded man. 'In God's name,' cried 
he, 'of what unfortunate accident are you the victim ?' 
The holy name of God appeared to rouse in the stran- 
ger a painful emotion, and his voice was hardly per- 
ceptible when he told Epigmenio that, as he was trav- 
eling with his daughter, he had been set upon by rob- 
bers, stripped of all he had, and left bleeding on the 
ground. He added that it was not for himself that he 
was asking assistance, but for the feeble creature by 
his side ; and, at the same time, parting the branches 
of a bush near which he lay, he showed the monk a 
young lady lying in a swoon upon the grass. The 
rays of the moon fell full upon her marble countenance 
and white dress. You may imagine the confusion 
Epigmenio was in when he saw this beautiful female, 
who seemed to realize to him the most beautiful vis- 
ions of his dreams. After a short silence, he repre- 
sented to the stranger that the convent of the Desierto 
was not far off; but, were it nearer, a female could- 
not be received within its walls. The unknown was 
grieved that he could not continue his journey, as his 
horse had escaped when the robbers attacked him. 
Plucking up his spirits, he declared, as his wound now 
gave him less pain, he would like to rise and seek for 
his lost steed. They set out together, but soon after 
agreed to separate, and — " 

A blinding flash of lightning interrupted the monk's 
story. The storm was increasing. The muddy wa- 



OUR DANGEROUS POSITION. 79 

ter had now risen as far as our stirrups. Our horses, 
that had stood without motion a long time, now turn- 
ed and presented their chests to the current, which was 
surging up higher and higher every minute. Around 
us, in the depth of the woods, the noise of the torrents 
was mingled with the wild harmony of the brawling 
winds, that seemed to Iblow from every point of the 
compass. 

"The water is rising," cried Fray Serapio, "and 
our horses will soon be utterly powerless against its 
force." 

Almost at the same moment the poor animals turn- 
ed quickly round, and, whether guided by instinct, or 
carried away by the force of the current, they moved 
toward the bottom of the ravine. A cry of distress, 
wafted to us by the wind, apprised us that the torrent 
was also bearing away our companions in misfortune. 
A second flash lighted up the forest, and was followed 
by a clap of thunder which shook the air. A sulphur- 
ous odor filled the atmosphere, and immediately, to our 
inexpressible satisfaction, a pine, which had been struck 
by lightning a few paces from us, blazed up, and soon 
illuminated the surrounding objects. 

" We are saved !" cried Fray Serapio : " I see near 
us a rock low enough for our horses to mount." 

Our companions had already escaped from the tor- 
rent ; they encouraged us by voice and gestures to do 
the same. My horse, by a desperate effort, reached 
the top of the bank. I had kept close by Fray Sera- 
pio, whose horse had twice attempted the ascent, and 
had twice fallen back ; but the third time, like a true 
Mexican, he accomplished it. We were still not out 
of all danger. A shelter must be found, as it was now 
out of the question to push on to the hacienda. 



80 THE DESIEETU. 

By the pale light in the sky, which was now com- 
paratively clear, we could discern a narrow bridle-path 
running along the edge of the ravine. This road 
doubtless led to the Desierto, the very convent in 
which Fray Epigmenio had first taken his vows. We 
hurried along this path, certain this time of not miss- 
ing our way ; and a few minutes after, having escaped 
the most imminent peril, our little troop stopped, with 
heartfelt satisfaction, before the ruined walls of the an- 
cient monastery. 



CHAPTER V. 

The Desierto. 



Aftee fastening our horses in the outer court of the 
convent, we chose, near the entrance of the building, 
the cell which seemed to be most convenient for shel- 
ter. The first moments of our halt were devoted to 
an interchange of reflections, half merry, half serious, 
upon the danger we had run. Don Romulo confessed 
that he had taken part in seventeen conspiracies ; that 
he had been banished, under circumstances of great 
aggravation, from three republics — from Peru, Ecua- 
dor, and Colombia, but that the danger he had just 
escaped was the most imminent he had ever experi- 
enced in his life. As for the monk, the student, and 
the officer, they owned frankly enough that, when the 
danger appeared most imminent, and they had seemed 
callous to it, they were far from feeling so in their 
minds. After some more talk of a like kind, our eyes 
roamed around the old monastery to which chance had 
directed us for shelter. 



THE OLD MONASTEEY. 81 

Situated in the midst of a tract of country which re- 
minds one of the Grande Chartreuse of Grenoble, the 
convent of the Desierto is, to all outward appearance, 
far from being in a ruinous condition. Its cupolas and 
spires still shoot as high as ever above the pines which 
surround it ; and although half a century has rolled 
away since the monks quitted it, ivy has not yet en- 
tirely covered the embrasures of its deserted cells. 
The green moss which grows upon its walls shows 
only the want of repair and the ravages of time. You 
must pass through the first quadrangle, which is still 
in good preservation, so as to reach the interior of the 
convent, before seeing the spectacle of melancholy and 
desolation which there meets your eye. The dilapi- 
dated cupolas admit the daylight through large chinks, 
the pilasters in the cloisters are crumbling away, large 
stones have been forced from their sockets, lieaps of 
ruins block up the choir and the nave of the chapel, 
and a thick mantle of pellitories covers the rubbish. 
The vapors which hang in a dense curtain round the 
summit of the mountain, at the foot of which the con- 
vent is built, fall in fine rain on the bare stones, and 
cover every thing with an icy moisture. Above the 
high altar, through one of the numerous fissures in the 
dome, the condensed vapor escapes, and falls drop by 
drop with the regularity of a water-clock, as if to mark 
the flight of time, and to relieve, by the light noise it 
makes on the marble, the melancholy silence which 
reigns in this dreary solitude. Such is the convent 
of the Desierto, seen by the light of day and under a 
clear sky. Let any one fancy its appearance at the 
time we sought refuge within its walls, when the storm, 
which had lasted since twilight, was scarcely over. 
Imagine the beams of the moon, fitfully streaming 
D2 



82 THE MONASTERY BY MOONLIGHT. 

through its deserted arches, and the wind whistling in 
the empty nave, in its organ loft, in its solitary cells, 
and he will have some idea of the shelter in which we 
spent the remainder of the night. 

We stood shivering in our wet clothes, and our first 
business was to seek materials for a fire. We took 
each a dififerent part of the convent. The quarter in 
which I was engaged happened to be the most ruin- 
ous in the whole building. The remembrance of the 
old monk of St. Francis often came into my mind ; 
and, in passing along the deserted galleries, I could 
not help fancying I saw him flitting through the 
gloomy arches. Around me the pillars stretched 
their great shadows upon the ground, whitened by 
the moonbeams. A stillness, as of the grave, rested 
every where. The ivy curtains alone shook in the 
wind. 

From the cloister I entered a vast corridor. 
Through the large chinks in the vaulted roof above 
the moonbeams stealthily penetrated. In the dis- 
tance I thought I observed a red glow on the flag- 
stones playing amid the surrounding whiteness, and 
imagined I heard the snort of a horse which did not 
seem to proceed from the court where we had fastened 
our steeds. At the same instant my companions call- 
ed me ; I eagerly joined them. They had collected 
some brushwood, as they could find nothing better. 
The officer, Don Bias, affirmed that he had seen, by 
the light of the moon, in a distant court, a horse which 
was not one of ours. The student pretended he had 
met the ghost of one of the monks who had been bur- 
ied in the convent. A short silence succeeded. Don 
Homulo was the first to break it. 

" Here is a charming variety of horrors ; the horse 



A NIGHT IN THE MONASTERY. 83 

ot a bandit ; the ghost of a monk ; spectres and male- 
factors!" 

We tried to induce Fray Serapio to pronounce the 
classical formula of exorcism in his formidable Latin, 
but the monk replied tartly, 

" My Latin won't drive away the spectre you talk 
of; it will rather attract it. God grant it may not 
appear ! Be assured this is no freak of the imagina- 
tion. The phantom seen by Sefior Don Bias is a re- 
ality. It is my superior, the Reverend Father Epig- 
menio, who comes here every year, at the return of the 
Holy Week, to fulfill a penitential vow imposed on 
him for some sins of his youth. If he recognize me, 
how can I justify my present disguise and foolish ex- 
cursion ?" 

The Franciscan's reply set us completely at our 
ease, and we sympathized very little in his anxiety. 
Wishing, however, to have no meeting between the 
two, we resolved to light our fire in a cell in a retired 
part of the convent, and to stretch ourselves on our 
wet cloaks round it. The student, the officer, and the 
hidalgo were soon sound asleep ; the monk and I re- 
mained awake. Fray Serapio, on the watch to catch 
the slightest noise, trembled all over at the thought 
of being surprised by his superior, while my mind was 
filled with the story of Fray Epigmenio, so unfortu- 
nately interrupted. Seeing the Franciscan was not 
inclined to sleep, I pressed him to finish it. My com- 
panion, who could not shut an eye, was overjoyed at 
finding this means of whiling away the time. He 
consented with a very good grace, and crept more 
closely to the fire. 

" I left," said he, " Fray Epigmenio at the moment 
when chance had delivered to his care a female in a 



84 THE monk's story continued. 

swoon. His first impulse was to run away ; his sec- 
ond was to remain, and lie remained. He ceased even 
to shout for the wounded horseman, whose return he 
did not now particularly desire ; and when the young 
lady, coming out of her faint, opened her languid eyes, 
the reverend father lost his senses entirely. If at this 
moment the stranger had appeared, the monk would 
have strangled him, for you have doubtless guessed by 
this time that the stranger in black was no other than 
the devil!" 

To this unexpected assertion my only reply was a 
shake of the head. Fray Serapio, believing I agreed 
with him, continued : 

"Fray Epigmenio yielded to temptation. He feU 
deeply, madly in love. For a time his vows were for- 
gotten, but the prickings of conscience at last aroused 
him, and he resolved to confess his fault. He was 
taken before the tribunal of the Inquisition.* Till the 
final judgment was pronounced, they were both kept 
in confinement, the monk in his cell, the female in a 
dungeon. Some weeks passed in miserable anticipa- 
tion. One evening, the cell of Fray Epigmenio was 
the theatre of a scene, in which the intervention of the 
devil was as clearly seen as in the meeting in the for- 
est. Kneeling before his crucifix, the monk was askr 
ing from God that peace which his soul had lost. All 
at once he was startled by a footfall in his cell. A 
man stood before him, who regarded him with a stern, 
watchful eye. This man was no other than the stran- 
ger who had appeared to the recluse a month before 
in the wood ; his dress was the same, and he appeared 
still paler than on the night in which the monk had 

* Suppressed in Mexico in 1810. The old palace of the Inquisition, 
situated n the street St. Domingo, is now used as a custom-house. 



THE monk's STOEY CONCLUDED. 85 

found him bathed in blood. Fray Epigmenio stepped 
back, but the stranger did not stir. The formula of 
exorcism, hastily stammered out, had no effect upon 
him. -The monk then called for help, but it was too 
late, When thej entered the cell the stranger had 
disappeared. Epigmenio, bleeding from a dagger 
thrust, lay in a swoon before his folding-stool, and 
you could see the impress of the villain's bloody fin- 
gers. Time has not effaced these marks; they are 
still there." 

"I can guess the conclusion of your story," said I 
to Fray Serapio ; " the female was condemned as a 
sorceress, and the monk was acquitted." 

" The female," said Serapio, " confessed on the rack 
that she had been in league with the devil, and was 
condemned to expiate the crime hy a public act,' but 
she did not undergo that punishment. Her keepers 
found her one morning lying dead on the floor of her 
dungeon, strangled with the beautiful black tresses 
which had proved so fatal to Fray Epigmenio. As 
for the monk, his wound was slight ; it soon healed. 
Condemned to five years menial servitude in the con- 
vent of St. Francis, he was made the convent garden- 
er. Almost at the same period the Inquisition ceased 
to exist, and the convent of the Desierto was aban- 
doned as unhealthy. The visit which Fray Epigme- 
nio makes at the same time every year to this ruined 
building is the only memorial of this event." 

Fray Serapio paused. I was weary for want of 
sleep ; he seemed also ready to drop with fatigue, and 
I forbore troubling him with any remarks on the story 
I had just heard. I had already lain down by the 
side of my companions, who were all fast asleep. Sud- 
denly the Franciscan shook me by the arm, and in- 



86 EXPLANATION OF THE STOKY. 

vited me precipitately to follow him. I rose and ac- 
companied liim to a window which commanded a view 
of the inner courts of the convent, which were still 
bathed in the silvery light of the moon. The monk, 
whose stern and forbidding countenance had awakened 
my attention in the garden of St. Francis, was at this 
moment traversing one of the courts. We remarked 
that his steps were more tottering, and his body more 
bent than usual. When he disappeared, "Follow 
me," said Fray Serapio, "to the cell which was his, 
which he has just quitted." We soon arrived at the 
cell, but nothing distinguished it from the others. The 
walls were quite bare ; the wind whistled through the 
parasitical plants which clung to the disjointed stones. 
A pine torch, stuck into an interstice of the wall, was 
just expiring. Fray Serapio fanned the dying flame, 
and, with all the obstinacy of a conscientious cicerone, 
he pretended to point out upon the wall the traces of 
the five fingers of the unknown who had stabbed the 
monk in his prison. I did not tell Serapio that the 
black stains on the wall had been produced by damp, 
and not by the hand of Satan. I v seized, however, 
this opportunity of informing the worthy monk that 
the story of his unfortunate superior could be perfect- 
ly well explained without the intervention of the devil. 
The superiors of Fray Epigmenio, jealous of his rigid 
virtue, had probably set the trap into which he had 
fallen. They had found an adroit monk and a female 
willing to work through their plans, and the brutal 
fanaticism of the monk had unhappily spoiled every 
thing. The Inquisition had got wind of the matter. 
The farce was then turned into a tragedy. The 
vengeance of the father, who repented the selling of 
his child, her unhappy end, and the bhghted, melan- 



VISITS TO THE CONVENT EESUMED. 87 

choly life which Fray Epigmenio had been afterward 
doomed to lead, were the unhappy consequences of the 
shameful intrigue hatched in the very convent in which 
we now were. Such was my commentary on Fray 
Serapio's story ; but he, with an obstinacy only equal- 
ed by his credulity, held fast by his own interpretation. 

Next morning we arrived at the hacienda of the 
friend of Don Diego Mercado, where the cordial recep- 
tion we experienced soon made us forget the dangers 
and sufferings of the previous night. 

On my return to Mexico I resumed my visits to the 
convent of St. Francis, and I read with more interest 
than ever the narratives preserved in these valuable 
archives, for I had now a thorough conviction that the 
old Spanish fanaticism, of which there were many in- 
stances in these documents, had still firm root in the 
minds of thd people of Mexico. There is a close con- 
nection between the past and present race of the in- 
habitants of the cloisters, which the frivolous manners 
of the monks, as seen by me in the streets of Mexico, 
had not led me to suspect. The Inquisition has pass- 
ed away, but it has left in the clergy a well-defined 
outline, a singularly deep-rooted tradition of demorali- 
zation, superstitious ignorance, and fanaticism. 

Every time I went to the convent of St. Francis I 
met Fray Epigmenio, sometimes in the cloisters, some- 
times sunk in reverie in the arbor. One day, howev- 
er, I traversed the whole convent in search of him, but 
in vain. Just as I was quitting it I met Fray Sera- 
pio. The presence of the Franciscan in his convent 
was so very rare an occurrence that I could not help 
inquiring why he had condescended so far as to break 
through his usual habits. 

"It is a pity," cried Fray Serapio, "but don't ask 



88 LIBERTINISM AND CREDULITT. 

me why. Fray Epigraenio has just "breathed his last. 
A lingering fever hung about him a long time ; he died 
this morning, and the duty of watching tlie corpse of 
the reverend father has been assigned to me. Could 
any one have played me a more scurvy trick?" 

" I don't understand you," I replied. " You sure- 
ly don't mean poor Fray Epigmenio?" 

"Who then, if it isn't he? Do you know what 
this duty makes me lose? A charming assignation, 
mon cher.^^ And, as a commentary on these words, 
there darted from his eyes an expressive glance which 
told more than he said. I had not the heart to re- 
proach the monk for his heartless talk, uttered, too, 
in such a cavalier tone. At this moment the first 
strokes of the passing-bell interrupted our conversation. 
"Good-by!" said Fray Serapio ; "the bell calls me 
to my post." I shook him by the hand, and, on re- 
tiring, could not help reflecting on the singular con- 
trast which these two men presented, inhabitants of 
the same convent, both under the same rules, both re- 
gardless of the sanctity of their mission ; the one unit- 
ing libertinism with credulity, the other pushing piety 
to fanaticism, till it degenerated into cruelty. This 
contrast, I said sadly to myself, is a faithful picture 
of Mexican life. Who can tell how many unhappy 
wretches there are, in the numerous convents in Mex- 
ico, who have commenced with the first and ended with 
the second ? 

Among the persons who have figured in this narra- 
tive, one only succeeded in securing d peaceful life aft- 
er a youth of stirring adventure : this was the student 
Don Diego Mercado, who, belonging to a rich family in 
Mexico, had always looked to the future without un- 
easiness. As for Don Bias, he met his death in a pet- 



WHAT BECAME OF MY FELLOW-TEAVELEES. 89 

ty encounter with some robbers on the high road. Don 
Eomulo's lot was at once more brilliant and more va- 
ried. After having, as I said before, taken part in 
seventeen conspiracies, and been banished from three 
republics, Don Romulo, after engaging in another po- 
litical intrigue, was forced to quit Mexico in the same 
way as he had left Peru, Colombia, and Ecuador. On 
returning to the last-mentioned state, in which he had 
been born, he was raised to the presidency ; and this 
time, being at the head of affairs in his own country, 
one would think he ought to have renounced his rev- 
olutionary principles. We do not know, however, if 
his conversion was sincere. There are some political 
agitators whom the attainment of supreme power can 
not correct, and who still prefer the precarious advant- 
ages gained by intrigue to the pleasures of unlimited 
authority. 



Pott (Hako (Urtstobal, t()c ©Ijicces' Catu^cr 
of iHeiico. 



There is an old document in the National Library 
of Paris which has hardly ever been consulted, I dare 
say, since the day on which it was placed on the dusty 
shelves of the manuscript room. It is an essay on 
the idioms of the Indian tribes of the New World, 
written toward the end of the sixteenth century, by 
Fray Alonzo Urbano, a monk of the order of St. Au- 
gustin. The chain of circumstances which was the 
means of bringing this curious document from Mexico 
to Paris is perhaps known only to myself, and that for 
an excellent reason. It was I who carried thither the 
unknown work of the monk of St. Augustin. The per- 
son from whom I obtained it is very likely dead. Be 
that as it may, the way in which I got possession of 
this manuscript will never be effaced from my mem- 
ory ; and the essay of Fray Urbano, although I am 
no judge of its philological merits, has still a great in- 
terest in my eyes. It brings to mind the intercourse 
I once had with one of the strangest personages that I 
ever had the good fortune to meet in Mexico. That 
intercourse was very short, but the recital will enable 
one easily to understand the deep impression it left 
upon me. I do not require to add that this story, 
though it appear romantic, is strictly true. In Mex- 
ico, you must remember, romance is ingrained in the 



THE thieves' lawyer. 91 

manners of the people, and he who would faithfully 
picture these exceptionable manners would be set down 
as a somewhat unscrupulous story-teller, when he is, 
in fact, only a simjple historian. 



CHAPTER I. 

The Public Scribe.— Pepito Rechifla.— The China.— The Callejon del 
Arco. 

At the commencement of the year 1835 I happened 
to be in Mexico, engaged in the prosecution of a troub- 
lesome piece of business. This concerned the some- 
what problematical recovery of a very considerable sum 
of money due me by an individual of whom I could 
not find the slightest trace. The business demanded 
the most energetic measures, and I addressed myself, 
in consequence, to several lawyers, well known for 
their success in dealing with such difficult cases. They 
all at first promised their assistance, but when I men- 
tioned my debtor's name (he was called Don Dionisio 
Peralta), one and all of them excused themselves from 
having any share in the business. One said he could 
never pardon himself if he gave the slightest cause of 
uneasiness to so gallant a man as Seiior Peralta ; a 
second, that he was attached to him by a com/padraz- 
go* of long standing; a third suddenly remembered 
that he had been a bosom friend of his in his youth. 
A fourth, more communicative than the others, enlight- 
ened me as to the cause of such friendly scruples ; 
these gentlemen had the fear of a dagger before their 
eyes, a mode of procedure of which Sehor Peralta had 

* Lit., a compaternity. 



92 THE merchants' arcades. 

availed himself more than once, to shake himself free 
of creditors who had been too pressing. " I don't 
know," he added, " a single person who will undertake 
your business, if the licentiate Don Tadeo Cristobal 
refuse : he has a heart. of rock and a hand of iron ; he 
is the man for you." I ran immediately to the Calle 
de los Batanes, where I was told he lived ; but anoth- 
er check awaited me there. Don Tadeo had quitted 
that place, and no one could tell me his present abode. 
Wearied and dejected in the evening, after a whole 
day spent in running up and down to no purpose, I 
was walking listlessly to and fro in the Merchants' 
Arcades {Portales de los Mercadores), which stands 
on the grand square of Mexico. Despairing of suc- 
cess, I resolved to ask for some information about Don 
Tadeo from some of the numerous public writers, whose 
stalls under the gallery are so many public intelligence 
offices ; but, once there, I completely forgot the motive 
which had brought me into this kind of bazar, the 
daily resort of all the idlers of Mexico, and my atten- 
tion was completely distracted by the animated picture 
which was unrolled before my eyes. The spectator 
will be less astonished at this if he figure to himself 
the almost magical appearance the Plaza Mayor pre- 
sents an hour before sunset. The Portales de los 
Mercadores occupy, in fact, almost one complete side 
of this immense square. The Cathedral, the Ayunta- 
miento, and the President's palace form, as the reader 
already knows, the other three sides. The most beau- 
tiful streets in Mexico debouch between those build- 
ings ; there is the street Primeria Monterilla, crowded 
with elegant shops ; another, called los Plateros (the 
street of the goldsmiths), whose shops are almost ex- 
clusively occupied by jewelers or lapidaries, while the 



THEIE PICTUEESQUE APPEAEANCE. 93 

petty Mexican merchant seems to have chosen, for the 
display of European commodities, the dark arcades of 
the los Mercadores. At the time of my stay in Mex- 
ico, French innovation had not yet ventured to alter 
the picturesque appearance of these arcades, which, in 
their general aspect, Ibore a remarkable resemblance to 
the Fillers des Halles in Paris. The heavy arches are 
supported on one side by vast warehouses, on the oth- 
' er by pillars, at the foot of which are ranged shops 
{alacenas) well stocked with religious books, rosaries, 
daggers, and spiu-s. Close by these shops, as if to 
represent all the grades of trafficking, leperos, in rags, 
hawk about articles of glassware, and, sticking one of 
them on the tip of their finger, they search for custom- 
ers with great eagerness. Every now and then the 
venders of wild duck ragouts, or tamales,* seated in 
the shade of the arches, strike in, amid the din of the 
crowd, with their well-known cry,t Aqui hay poto 
grande, mA alma; senorito venga sted, or that as 
popular but shorter call, TamalesX queretanos. The 
passers-by and purchasers are as worthy of observa- 
tion as the sellers. The ever-varying color of gowns 
and tapalos,% the gold of the mangas, and the motley 
color of the scrapes, form, under the dim, hazy light 
which prevail in the pilastera, a brilliant mixture of 
different colors, which reminds one strongly of the 
most fantastical Venetian masquerades. In the even- 
ing, when the stalls and shops are closed, the Mer- 
chants' Arcades become a kind of political club. Seat- 
ed on the threshold of the gates, or striding along in 

* A kind of meat pudding, strongly seasoned with pimenta. 
t Here's your fine duck, my jewel ; come, buy, my young master. 
X Tamales, made in Queretaro, a town about forty leagues from 
Mexico. 

4 A shawl, which is sometimes used as a head-dress. 



94 THE EVANGELIST. 

this kind of cloister, officers and townsmen talk about 
revolutions that have been effected, or are to be effect- 
ed, till the time when the almost deserted galleries 
serve only as a retreat for lovers, and their low whis- 
pers is all that is heard beneath the silent arcades. 

I had now sauntered for a long time in the Mer- 
chants' Arcades, when the sight of a writer's stall re- 
minded me of my business there. Among the work- 
ing population of the Portales, the public writers form 
a considerable portion of the community. You must 
remember that in Mexico primary instruction is not at 
all general, and that the office of a public writer, 
among this illiterate population, has lost nothing of 
its primitive importance. The tractable pen of the 
evangelists (that is the name they bear) is required for 
a thousand commissions, more or less delicate, and 
often of the most equivocal character — from the venal 
love-letter down to the note sent by a bravo to lure 
his intended victim to some secret ambuscade. The 
evangelist whom I had remarked among the rest of his 
tribe was a little squat fellow, his head almost bald, 
scarcely encircled with a few gray hairs. What prin- 
cipally drew my attention to this man was an expres- 
sion of sardonic joviality which shone in his otherwise 
insignificant face. I was just about to make some in- 
quiries of him about Don Tadeo, when an incident made 
me suddenly pause, and continue to look on in silence. 
A young girl came to the stall of the evangelist. The 
long wavy hair, which escaped in plaits from her open 
rebozo^ her complexion of a slight umber tint, the brown 
shoulders that her chemise of fine linen, fringed with 
lace, left almost bare, her slender figure, which had 
never been deformed by stays, and, above all, the three 
short petticoats of different colors, which fell in straight 



TIO LUQUILLAS AND THE CHINA. 95 

folds over her pliant haunches, all pointed out the 
young woman as a genuine specimen of the China* 

"Tio Luquillas," said the maiden. 

*' What is it ?" replied the evangelist. 

" I need your assistance." 

" I don't doubt that, since you come to me," replied 
Tio ; and, fancying he had divined the message she 
was going to send, he hegan complaisantly to fold a 
sheet of rose-tinted vellum paper, highly glazed, and 
embossed with cupids. But she made a gesture of 
impatience with her little brown hand. 

"What," said she, "would a man, who is almost 
breathing his last, care for your rose-tinted billet- 
doux?" 

" The devil !" said the scribe, in a passionless tone, 
while the girl wiped her streaming eyes with one of 
her long plaits : " is it a farewell epistle, then ?" 

A sob was the only reply ; then, stooping to the 
scribe's ear, she forced herself to dictate a short letter, 
not without frequent pauses to take breath and to wipe 
away her tears. The contrast between the unsuscepti- 
ble old man and the passionate girl appeared to me 
most striking. I was not the only observer ; every 
one who passed the booth of Tio Luquillas could not 
help casting a glance of pity, not unmingled with cu- 
riosity, upon the young China. The evangelist was 
about to fold the letter, but had not yet written the 
address, when a passer-by, bolder and more curious 
than the rest, came unceremoniously to have some con- 
versation with the old man. The new-comer's fea- 
tures were not unknown to me, and I remembered 
that he had, when standing next me at a bull-fight a 

* A China is, in Mexico, what the manola is in Madrid, and the 
grisette in Paris. 



96 AN ACQUAINTANCE. — AN ASSASSINATION* 

few days before, dilated, in the most attractive manner, 
on a sport which I passionately loved. The time did 
not seem to me suitable for making any inquiry of the 
evangelist, and I thought it best not to approach the 
three. I consequently remained a few paces from the 
booth, waiting patiently till the visitor would take his 
departure. The man, with whom an hour or two's 
chat had made me acquainted, had inspired me with a 
certain degree of interest. He was about forty years 
of age. His features were marked with a certain kind 
of nobility, in spite of a sarcastic expression which he 
sometimes threw into them. Although I might have 
forgotten we had ever met, the odd costume in which 
he was habited stamped him on my recollection. At 
the bull-fight he wore a wide-flowing blue cloak, lined 
with red, and on his head an enormous sombrero of 
yellow vicuna cloth, trimmed with gold lace. 

" For whom is the letter, my dear ?" he asked of the 
China^ somewhat authoritatively. 

The girl pointed to the prison of the presidential 
palace, and muttered a name which I did not catch. 

" Ah ! for Pepito ?" said the unknown, aloud. 

" Alas ! yes ; and I don't know how to get it con- 
veyed to him," replied the girl. 

" Well, never despair. Here's an opportunity that 
Heaven sends you." 

At this moment the people hastily left the galleries, 
and scattered themselves hastily upon the Plaza May- 
or. What motive had they for leaving ? The com- 
mission of a deed but too common in Mexico ; an as- 
sassination had been perpetrated on the public street. 
They had seized the murderer, raised the victim, and 
the melancholy cortege was on its way to the nearest 
prison. This place of confinement happened to be pre- 



THE BLOODY PROCESSION. 97 

cisely that in which the lover of the young girl was 
imprisoned, and I could easily comprehend the tenor 
of the words of hope which my new acquaintance had 
addressed to the China. 

The procession, which was now making its way 
across the square, had partly a comical, partly a mourn- 
ful appearance, with an originality in its arrangement 
truly Mexican. A cargardor (porter) marched in front, 
bearing on his shoulders, by means of a leathern belt 
passed round his forehead (as all Mexican porters do), 
a chair, upon which was strapped a man, or rather a 
corpse, wrapped in a bloody sheet. The assassin, 
guarded by four soldiers, followed closely behind. 
Some gaping idlers, and a few friends of the dead man, 
who seemed to be making a sorry attempt to appear 
sad, closed the procession. Of all the individuals of 
which that crowd was composed, the man most at his 
ease was the criminal himself, who, with a cigar in his 
mouth, marched along with perfect coolness, address- 
ing himself every now and then to the bloody corpse, 
which, to his great surprise, uttered not a word in re- 
ply. "Come, now," said he, "none of your waggish 
tricks, Panchito ; you know quite well that I can't 
make your wife any allowance. You are shamming 
death well; but I am not to be done in that style." 
But Panchito was quite dead, let the assassin say 
what he might, and I could feel a cold shudder creep 
over me when the hideous corpse was borne close past 
me. Its eyes (for the sheet did not cover the face), 
with a stony glitter, stared at the sun with immovable 
fixity. The bull-fight amateur, who was doubtless 
more accustomed to such sights, walked right up to 
the procession, stopped it, and holding the letter of the 
China out to the murderer, 
E 



98 A MESSENGER FOUND. 

"Pay attention!" said he. "Have you not some 
acquaintance with the illustrious Pepito Rechifla — lie 
who is to be garroted to-morrow ?" 

" Of course ; I am a chum of his." 

" Well, as you will, in all probability, not be exe- 
cuted before him, you will see him just now in the 
prison. Give him this letter from me." 

" Ah ! Senor Cavalier," said the Mexican girl, sud- 
denly, who, with face bathed in tears, and a palpitat- 
ing bosom, made her way through the crowd, threw 
herself at the murderer's feet, and seizing the corner 
of his cloak, after the ancient fashion, said, "By the 
blood of Christ, and the merits of the Virgin in her 
seven sorrows, do not forget to give him this letter, 
which contains my last farewell ! I am so unhappy 
at not being able to see him !" 

"Yes, lAnda mia, I will," replied the murderer, 
carrying his hand to his eyes, and trying to give his 
voice a pathetic tone. "I have as feeling a heart as 
you ; and had not this d — d Panchito been always 
thwarting me, I should not have been here, I swear ; 
but keep up your si^ivits, ^?'eciosita de mi alma." 

A piece of money which the sporting character threw 
to the prisoner cut short his eloquent speech ; the sol- 
diers surrounded him, and they resumed their march 
to the prison. The procession soon disappeared round 
a corner of the A.yu7itam,iento, while some women, 
with a delicacy peculiar to Mexican females, surround- 
ed the young China, but were unable to persuade her 
to go home. In a short time, in spite of all their en- 
treaties, I saw her walk to the prison, seat herself at 
the foot of its dark wall, and, veiling her face with her 
rebozo, remain there immovable. My friend of the 
bull--fi!:rhtr, was lost in the crowd, and I had now a fit- 



I MISS DON TADEO. 99 

ting opportunity for consulting the evangelist. I step- 
ped up to the old man, and tapped him gently on the 
shoulder. 

" Can you tell me," said I, " where the licentiate 
Don Tadeo Cristobal lives ?" 

" Don Tadeo Cristobal, do you say ? He was here 
a minute ago." 

" Was Don Tadeo here ?" 

" Did you not see how obligingly he caused a mes- 
sage to be delivered to the bandit Pepito Rechifla, that 
one of the prettiest Chinas in Mexico dictated to me ?" 

" What ! was that man in the sombrero and red 
cloak Don Tadeo the licentiate ?" 

*'It was." 

" And where shall I find him now ?" 

" I do not know ; for, to say the truth, he has no 
settled abode, but lives a little every where. If, how- 
ever, you wish to consult him on urgent business, go 
this very evening, between the hours of nina, and 
twelve o'clock, to the Callejon del Arco (blind alley 
of the arcade) ; you are sure to find him in the last 
house on the right as you pass the square." 

I thanked the scribe, and, after giving him a few 
reals for his trouble, directed my steps to the Callejon 
del Arco. Although it was scarcely seven o'clock in 
the evening, I went to try to find out, before nightfall, 
the house which I intended to visit two hours after- 
ward. Experience had taught me that such precau- 
tions were not useless in Mexico ; besides, the Calle- 
jon del Arco had long been notorious as one of the 
most dangerous places in the Mexican capital. 

The appearance of the alley justified but too well 
the reputation which it had acquired. The dense mass 
of houses, of which the Merchants' Arcades form a 



100 THE "TOM ALL ALONES" OF MEXICO. 

part, known by the name of the Iirvpedradillo, does 
not form one compact cuadra. On the southwest side 
of the Cathedral, a narrow lane runs into the Impe- 
dradillo ; this is the Callejon del Arco. It is like one 
of those caverns which the sea sometimes hollows out 
in the face of a cliff. When still blinded by the over- 
powering rays of the sun with which the square is 
flooded, and which beat in all their intensity on the 
white walls and granite pavement, the eye, at first daz- 
zled by the glare, sees only after a few moments an- 
other street cutting this one at right angles, and form- 
ing with it a dark cross-road. There, as in the cav- 
erns by the sea-shore, you can not hear the noise 
without, except it be a dull, mournful hum, which re- 
sembles as much the wail of the wind-tossed waves 
as the tumult of a populous city. A few rope-spin- 
ners' shops, their massive doors fast closed, and here 
and there a few dark passages, are the only signs 
which remind you that you are in a city, and in the 
midst of inhabited houses. Water is constantly ooz- 
ing out of the walls ; a perpetual moisture reigns every 
where ; and scarcely, even at midday, at the time of 
the summer solstice, does a sunbeam visit this dismal 
den. A little new life then begins to stir, till the sun 
has advanced into the winter solstice, when it relapses 
into its former gloom and silence. 

It was there, then, in one of these sinister-looking 
houses, that I was to meet a man able to settle a piece 
of business for me from which all the other lawyers 
in Mexico had recoiled. I stopped some moments to 
gaze with wonder and amazement upon the situation 
chosen for the office of the lawyer; but had not the 
episode, which I had witnessed a short time before, al- 
ready prepared me for the eccentricities of Don Tadeo ? 



MEXICO BY MOONLIGHT. 101 

How could I explain the easy, familiar tone which he 
had employed with the wretch to whom he was con- 
signing the message to Pepito Rechifla ? How the 
relations which appeared to exist between the bandit 
and the licentiate ? The strange intimacy of a lawyer 
with thieves and assassins seemed, at first sight, not 
at all to be expected. The hope, however, of obtain- 
ing a solution of this seeming enigma decided me, and 
I left the Callejon del Arco with the intention of visit- 
ing it again two hours afterward. 



CHAPTER II. 



A Mexican Gambling-house. — Navaja, the Mexican Bravo. — John 
Pearce, the Yankee. 

Night had come ; one of those nights in May in 
which Mexico, seen by moonlight, assumes an appear- 
ance almost magical. The pale light of the moon 
sheds its soft radiance upon the stained steeples of the 
churches and the colored fa9ades of the monuments. 
The moon here scatters her voluptuous light over the 
earth in a bounteous fashion, unknown in our northern 
regions. The crowd upon the Plaza Mayor was not 
so dense as before sunset ; it was less noisy, and more 
scattered. The promenaders spoke in a low tone, as 
if they feared to break the silence which was brooding 
over all. The light noise produced by the waving of 
fans, the rustle of silk dresses, sometimes a peal of fe- 
male laughter, melodious and clear as the tone of a 
crystal bell, or the striking of a church clock at a dis- 
tance, alone broke the general silence. Veiled wom- 
en, and men wi'apped in long cloaks, glided like shad- 



102 PEOMENADERS. — AN ADVENTURE. 

ows over the sand, that hardly crunched beneath their 
tread. I saw more than one mysterious couple, whose 
appearance there would probably furnish dainty food 
to the scandal-loving denizens of the drawing-room. 
Besides young and beautiful women, there were also 
those who, to use an English expression, were on the 
shady side of thirty years. You could see also a con- 
siderable number of those doncellas chanjlonas, those 
beauties of easy virtue mentioned by Perez of Gue- 
vara. I say nothing of the adventure-seekers whom 
you find every where in Mexico — bullies, who wear 
the pavement with their sabres and spurs. Such was 
the motley crowd which pushed and jostled one an- 
other on the Plaza Mayor at the very time I was be- 
taking myself, not without some fear, I must say, to 
the Callejon del Arco. 

I had hardly reached the mouth of the dark lane, 
when a current of cold air, as if it had issued from a 
cave, struck my face, and chilled me to the bone. I 
stood for some seconds at the entrance of the alley, 
trying to discover some gleam of light from the win- 
dows or grated doors, but there were no signs of life 
in a single house. I then advanced, groping along in 
search of the house which I had discovered a short 
time before. I had almost arrived at the cross-road 
of which I have already spoken, when I heard a noise 
of footsteps behind me, and saw a man who, coming 
from the square, was advancing toward me. I wished 
to keep on the pavement, but my legs getting entan- 
gled in the long rapier of the stranger in some way or 
other, I stumbled, and, to keep myself from falling, 
grasped his cloak. The man immediately stepped 
back, and, by the grazing of steel, I knew he was draw- 
ing his sword. 



A NIGHT ADVENTURE. 103 

" Capa de Dios /" cried lie. " Whether is it my 
person or ray cloak you are fancying, Sir Roblber ?" 
I thought I knew the voice, and I hastened to re- 

" I am neither a robber nor assassin, Seiior Don — " 

I thought the unknown was going to assist my 
memory, and state his name. He did nothing of the 
kind ; but, putting his back to the door of a house, ho 
said, roughly, 

" Who are you, and what do you want ?" 

"I am seeking for the dwelling of Don Tadeo the 
licentiate," I replied ; " and, if I am not greatly de- 
ceived, we are standing before it at this very moment." 

" Ah ! who told you he lived here ?" 

" Tio Lucas, the public scribe. I wish to consult 
Don Tadeo on a very important affair." 

"Don Tadeo! It is he that is speaking to you 
just now." 

The costume of this man I could not distinguish ; 
his features were precisely similar to the bull-fight am- 
ateur, with whose name Tio Lucas had acquainted me. 
I hastened to reply to Don Tadeo, counting myself 
happy in having met him, and begged a few minutes' 
private conversation. 

"With the greatest pleasure," he replied. "I am 
quite ready to take up your affair ; but let us first en- 
ter the house ; we can then speak more at our ease." 
At the same time, he struck the pommel of his sword 
against the door behind him. "My profession," ad- 
ded he, " obliges me to employ many precautions. 
You will immediately comprehend why. Do not be 
astonished at my queer domicile. You may think me 
an original, and may have reason." 

Don Tadeo paused, and the door of the mysterious 



104 A GAMBLING-HOUSE. 

house opened with a great clanking of chains. The 
porter, with a huge lantern in his hand, bowed respect- 
fully to the licentiate, who motioned me to follow him. 
We walked rapidly along the zaguan or lobby, and, 
after mounting a very steep stair, stopped before a 
serge curtain, surmounted by a transparent lantern, on 
which was inscribed, in large letters, Sociedad Filar- 
monica. Voices and confused cries escaped from the 
hall which bore this ambitious title. " Are those your 
clients who are making such a great noise, Senor Li- 
centiate ?" I inquired. Without a word, he lifted the 
curtain of green serge, and we found ourselves in an 
immense hall, indiiferently lighted. A long table, cov- 
ered with green baize, and surrounded with players, 
stood in the middle of the room. Besides the lamps 
which hung from the walls, the place was lighted up 
by four candles stuck into tin holders. Some small 
tables, with refreshments, placed at regular distances 
from each other, furnished the players with infusions 
of tamarinds, rose water, or Barcelona brandy. At 
the bottom of the hall rose a high estrade, ornamented 
with some size-color paintings, representing, for the 
purpose, no doubt, of showing the original design of 
the estabhshment, a confused group of bassoons, hunt- 
ing-horns, and clarionets. My surprise may be easily 
conceived when I found myself in a gambling-house 
like this at the very time I fancied I was stepping into 
a lawyer's office. I contemplated my companion as 
if I were looking upon him for the first time. He 
was assuredly the very man I had met in the circus 
and in the Merchants' Arcades. With this strange 
costume, long rapier, and thick, black curly hair, his 
appearance partook more of the bandit than of the law- 
yer. He had taken only a few steps in the hall when 



DON TADEO'S CLIENTS. 105 

lie was accosted loy two individuals — worthy habitues 
of such a den. The first was a tall, awkward, sham- 
bling fellow, with a ferocious air, who held out to the 
licentiate a hand large as a shoulder of mutton, and 
said, in Spanish, with strong English accent, " How 
is Seiior Don Tadeo to-day ?" 

"Better than those to whom you wish well. Master 
John Pearce," replied he, darting upon his interlocu- 
tor a look of cold disdain, which pierced him like a 
sword. "You know well that your reputation here 
is ruined as much as it was in Texas. Above all, 
since — " 

" Tut!" said the American, evidently not at all de- 
sirous that the licentiate should finish his sentence. 
"With your permission, I have cOme to consult 
you." 

" Immediately," replied the man of law. " I must, 
however, give the preference to this gentleman, whom 
I met before you." 

" Do me a favor ; listen to me first, Senor Licenti- 
ate," cried another personage, with squinting eyes and 
gray hair, dressed in the national costume of Mexico. 
"I wish also to ask your advice." 

" Ah ! is it you, Navaja," replied Tadeo, eyeing the 
Mexican, who seemed to tremble under his stern 
glance. "Are you going to trouble me any more 
about that ugly affair?" 

" Tut !" cried the Mexican in his turn. " Since.it 
pleases you, I will take the third place." 

It was quite sufficient for Don Tadeo to remind 
them of these two episodes, which doubtless did not 
redound to their credit, to shake himself free of their 
importunities. I admired the power that gave my 
companion an experience, evidently acquired at great 
E 2 



106 THE lawyer's eeputation. 

personal risk, among the most dangerous braves of the 
Mexican brotherhood. 

" Ah!" said Don Tadeo, turning at last to me, "will 
you now enlighten me, Senor Cavalier, about the af- 
fair which has brought you hither ? It must be some- 
thing very delicate, since only those cases are brought 
to me which my brother lawyers consider insurmount- 
able. It was doubtless one of these lawyers who ad- 
vised you to address yourself to me." 

I named the licentiate who had extolled the intrepid 
heart and good sword of Don Tadeo. He shook his 
head with a disdainful smile. 

" The business in question is a dangerous one," re- 
plied he, "I can easily see that. The man who rec- 
ommended me to you is my declared enemy, and he 
does not send me such jobs for nothing. Besides, per- 
haps I am a little too ready to draw in the public 
streets after nightfall. What of it ? I am of Seville, 
and one hasn't passed several years of one's life among 
the fighting men in the suburb of Triana for nothing." 

"Are you a Spaniard?" 

" Of course ; and, before being a lawyer, I was what 
you caU. a go-ahead fellow — uracan y calavera. You 
see before you a student of Salamanca — of that beau- 
tiful city : 

" ' En Salamanca, la tuna 
Anduve marzo y abril. 
Ninas he visto mas de mil 
Pero como tu, ninguna.'* 

i once made some songs myself, and even set tnem to 
music ; and it was in consequence of a serenade un- 

* At Salamanca I led a very dissipated life in the months of March 
and April. I saw more than a thousand women, but none so fair as 
you. 



OUR INTERVIEW. 107 

liappily broken up, and followed by the death of a 
man, that necessity compelled me to seek my fortune 
in New Spain. To insure my success here, I possess- 
ed two valuable qualities, which rarely go together — 1 
was a thorough master of law and of fence. You 
yourself can acknowledge that my old humor of sword- 
playing has not yet left me ; but I think, Senor Cava- 
lier, I owe you some amends for the unintentional in- 
sult which I lately put upon you. To tell the truth, 
at that time I was just about to pass my sword through 
your body. Allow me to offer you, as a slight com- 
pensation for mj rudeness, some tincture of rose wa- 
ter or Catalonian rejino." 

Without giving time for reply, the licentiate drew 
me ta a table, where we sat down. My astonishment 
increased as I became more acquainted with this sin- 
gular personage. It was not till after we had partaken 
of some slight refreshment that Don Tadeo would con- 
sent to listen to my business, which I told him as clear- 
ly and briefly as I could. 

" Good !" said he ; " you are seeking a debtor you 
can't find ; but won't you tell his name ?" 

"Ah ! his name is one that touches the sympathies 
of your brethren very nearly, for no one dares take up 
my case against him." 

"Let's hear this terrible name. I am curious to 
know if it will have the same effect upon me." 

" I'll tell it you in a whisper. His. name is Don 
Dionisio Peralta!" 

The licentiate never moved a muscle of his face. 

" How much does he owe you ?" 

"Four hundred piastres." 

"No more," said Don Tadeo, after a moment's si- 
lence. "Let us go to the terrace at the top of the 



108 THE licentiate's CLERK. 

house, where we can converse more at our ease. But, 
first of all, allow me to finish the business of those 
two fellows who are waiting for me. The interest 
even which I take in your case obliges me to put a 
stop to our conversation for the present, for the pur- 
pose of getting some indispensable information among 
the frequenters of this gaming-house. All I ask of 
you is to manifest no surprise if you see or hear things 
you don't exactly understand." 

I shook hands with the licentiate. We rose and 
crossed to a group of players, that had increased con- 
siderably since our private conversation began. A 
crowd of spectators, two deep, surrounded the green 
board upon which the piastres rolled with a most at- 
tractive clink. 

The licentiate passed before his two clients, the 
Mexican and the American, signing them to wait upon 
liim, and walked up to a young man, who, like the 
other spectators, was devouring the green board with 
greedy look. This fellow, of a sallow and cadaverous 
aspect, wore an almost brimless hat over his long, 
thick hair, and a well-worn esdavina on his shoulders. 
He was the beau ideal of a lawyer's clerk, sorry at 
being unable to stake his master's fortune on a card. 

" Ortiz !" said the licentiate, " have you writing ma- 
terials with you ?" 

"Of course," the clerk replied; and he drew from 
his pocket a roll containing paper, pens, and ink. The 
licentiate sat down by himself, wrote a few lines, fold- 
ed the paper, and passed it to his clerk, who replied to 
his master's directions, given in a low voice, only by a 
bow and a hurried exit. The licentiate then begged 
me to have patience for a few minutes longer, till he 
had given his two clients their promised consultation, 



AN EXTKAOEDINARY SCENE. 109 

and I mixed with the throng round the table. It was 
certainly an extraordinary sight ; adventurers of all 
kinds surrounded me, reminding me strongly of the 
heroes in the old picaresque romances. I was struck 
by a remarkably characteristic feature. The banker 
had on the table by him a Catalonian knife, with an 
edge as keen as a razor. An intimation which he 
gave the players let me into the secret of this strange 
proceeding. "I warn the gentlemen now present," 
said he, " that if any one affects to confound the bank 
with his stake, I shall nail his hand to the table with 
this knife." This strange threat seemed not to aston- 
ish or offend any one ; and I concluded that the mis- 
hap provided against by the banker had occurred more 
than once. 

In spite of the extraordinary scenes I was witness- 
ing, I could not help feeling the time rather long till 
the licentiate drew me away from the green board to a 
retired corner of the hall, where his two clients, the tall 
Yankee and the squinting Mexican, were seated to- 
gether at a table. The American was just finishing 
a bottle of Catalonian rejino, while the Mexican slow- 
ly sipped some iced tamarind water. 

"Well," said the Hcentiate, regarding me with a 
look fall of meaning, "here are two gentlemen who 
will remove your conscientious scruples regarding the 
four hundred piastres you owe me, and who affirm that 
you can very easily pay me by making over a similar 
debt due you by Seiior Peralta, who will honor his 
signature with the greatest grace in the world." 

"I did not say that," cried the American, with a 
roar of laughter. " I don't know if he will pay with 
pleasure. All I know is that he wiU pay, or — " 

"Softly!" interrupted Don Tadeo. "From the 



IIU GRATITUDE OF PEPITO KECHIFLA. 

moment that Peralta becomes mj debtor, his life is 
valuable to me, and I require you to respect it." 

" Seiior Peralta will pay with pleasure, I uphold,'' 
said the Mexican, softly, sipping his liquor by mouth- 
fuls as if it burned him, while the American emptied 
his glass of rejino at a single draught, like so much 
water. 

"Make him pay, that's all I care about," said the 
licentiate. " But is not that Pepito Rechifla with my 
clerk over there ? That's capital ! Ortiz has not been 
long about his business." 

The name of Pepito reminded me of the pretty Chir- 
na that I had seen with such a sad face in the Mer- 
chants' Arcades. I contemplated the man pointed out 
by the licentiate with some curiosity. He was a fel- 
low with a sunburned complexion, shaggy, unkempt 
hair, and a bold, shameless face — such a one as is met 
with nowhere but in the tents of the wandering Bohe- 
mians or in the streets of Mexico. "Ah ! Senor Li- 
centiate," cried he, "I shall never forget that I owe 
my life to you. I was to be garroted the day after 
to-morrow, and it was you who extricated me from the 
claws of the juez de letras (criminal judge). Some 
reals from your purse restored me to freedom. Yes, 
Seiior Licentiate, don't be astonished ; I know you are 
my savior ; your clerk has told me all." 

" Ortiz is a fool !" replied Don Tadeo, dryly ; " but 
I am rejoiced at your good fortune, for I wished to 
speak with you. I need your assistance. Here's a 
piastre for your supper." 

" Thank you. I am never hungry but when my 
pocket is empty. When I have a piastre I stake it." 

And the fellow hastened to the table. The Yankee 
and Mexican rose also, and followed him. Don Tadeo, 



WE GO TO THE TERRACE. 111^ 

freed from their importunities, drew me aside. " You 
see these three men," said he, with a smile. "Do you 
think there is any debtor who can resist three such 
baihifs — above all, when the debt has been made over 
to Don Tadeo the licentiate ? You understand me, 
of course. When I wished the debt made over to me, 
my name confers additional power in this dangerous 
war ; but when the conflict is over, all the advantages 
will be yours, less the expenses of the campaign, which, 
along with the honors of victory, you will allow me to 
retain." 

" But how will you light upon Peralta ? Up to this 
moment I could never get a trace of him." 

" That is my concern, and that of the three precious 
vagabonds you saw just now. Don Dionisio Peralta 
is a bad payer, but a good fence. However, we shall 
see." 

I then reminded Don Tadeo that he had expressed 
a wish to know more about my business with him, 
and I offered to satisfy him in this respect. At bot- 
tom I wished to examine more thoroughly this singu- 
lar character. Don Tadeo seemed to guess my real 
intention. "It is half past ten," he replied, looking 
at his watch. "I am at your service till midnight. 
Let us go up to the azotea (terrace). There is nobody 
there at this hour. The night is beautiful, and you 
can tell me your story without any risk of being over- 
heard." 



112 A MOONLIGHT SCENE. 



CHAPTER III. 

The Convent of the Bernardines. — The young Creole Lady. 

Aeeived at the terrace, we stood for some time in 
silent contemplation. At our feet lay the ancient city 
of the Aztecs, with its domes and spires innumerable 
glittering in the pale moonlight. Not far from us, the 
Cathedral threw its gigantic shadow and the profile of 
its towers on the Plaza Mayor. In the distance, the 
Parian* reared its black mass in the midst of spaces 
whitened by the moon, like a dark rock surrounded by 
foaming billows. Still farther off you recognized the 
elegant cupola of Santa Teresa, the fine domes of the 
convent of St. Francisco, the steeples of St. Augustin 
and the Bernardines, and behind this majestic crenu- 
lated mass of buildings, cupolas, and colored spires, 
you saw the country bathed in a white vapor, which, 
rising from the lakes, encircles the city like a lumin- 
ous halo. 

Don Tadeo was the first to break silence by asking 
me some questions about the business which had been 
intrusted to him. I eagerly replied, hoping that he 
would soon make me some revelations about himself, 
which could not fail to be interesting ; but the licen- 
tiate had fallen into a profound reverie, and I was be- 
ginning to despair of success, when the merest acci- 
dent came to my relief. This was the toll of a dis- 
tant bell, which suddenly rose, like a mysterious wail, 

* An old bazar, not unlike the Temple-market in Paris, 



THE PASSING-BELL. 113 

from amid the mournful silence. At the sound he 
shook his head, then put his hands over his face, which 
became gradually overspread with a deadly pallor. At 
last he took me by the hand, and, interrupting me in 
the midst of my explanation, cried, "Don't you hear 
that bell ?" 

"Yes," I replied. "And, if I am not deceived, it 
is the sound of the passing-bell in the convent of the 
Bernardines." 

"In the convent of the Bernardines!" he repeated, 
in a strangely altered tone; "in the convent of the 
Bernardines, do you say ?" 

' ' Assuredly. I recognize the direction of the sound ; 
I can not be wrong." 

"Let us descend immediately, for the sound drives 
me mad." 

" Why descend ? Is the light of the moon not bet- 
ter than those smoky lamps in the hell we have just 
quitted ?" 

The licentiate made no reply for a long time. The 
bell, whose strokes became more and more distinct, 
exercised upon him a kind of influence quite inexplic- 
able. I can not tell whether Don Tadeo remarked my 
surprise, but he probably relieved his bursting heart 
by taking my hand, and letting escape, in the midst 
of stifled sobbing, these strange words : 

" You must listen to me. I never hear the peal of 
that bell without seeing, as in a bad dream, the sad- 
dest event in my life rise before my eyes. Nothing in 
me wHl more excite your astonishment when you are 
acquainted with the horrible occurrence of which that 
bell reminds me." 

I made him aware, by signs, that I was ready to lis- 
ten to him. This is the story he told me, with a cool- 



114 DON TADEO'S STORY, 

ness that I could hardly have expected, from the sad 
introduction with which it was prefaced. 

"In the year 1825, that is, ten years ago, an attempt 
at assassination was made in the streets of Mexico. 
This is, unhappily, such an every-day affair in the 
capital of Mexico, that the public mind would not have 
Ibeen called to it had it not been accompanied by some 
strange circumstances. These were so strange, that, 
instead of being briefly narrated in the last column of 
the jom'nals, as is commonly the case, it figured among 
the events, more or less important, which have the 
privilege of engaging the attention of the idle inhabi- 
tants of Mexico for more than a week. A singular 
mystery, in fact, hung over this attempt at murder. 
Early in the morning, when the Paseo of Bucareli is 
quite solitary, a hackney-coach was seen standing in 
a retired part of the promenade. The coachman had 
descended from his box, and was standing prudently 
aside, as if he guessed the meaning of this early drive. 
Was it a man or a woman whom this coach of provi- 
dence (you know that is the name given to the hack- 
ney-coaches in Mexico) had driven to a love appoint- 
ment ? The blinds, carefully drawn down, left every 
thing to conjecture ; but it transpired afterward that a 
young female of dazzling beauty was in it, who, prompt- 
ed by female vanity, was richly adorned with jewels 
for this occasion. The Creoles, you know, have a 
strange fancy for appearing to be as rich as they are 
beautiful ; however, although that was the case with 
this young lady, she was still more beautiful than 
rich. A few minutes passed, when a man enveloped 
in a large cloak approached the vehicle. The coach- 
man opened the door of the carriage, and the stranger 
sprang in precipitately. A meeting of this kind was 



DON TADEO'S STORY. 115 

too much in the Mexican fashion to astonish the coach- 
man, who stretched himself upon the grass under the 
poplars, and fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke 
the carriage was still in the same place, only the shad- 
ows of the poplars, instead of leaning to the west, as at 
the time when he fell asleep, were stretching toward the 
east, as much as to say that the sun had nearly set, and 
the evening was succeeding the morning. This is the 
time when the Paseo is most thronged with promen- 
aders. The coachman was astonished at having slept 
so long ; he ran to the carriage, called aloud, and, not 
receiving any answer, opened the door. A horrible 
spectacle met his eyes. Upon the cushions lay the 
young lady in a swoon, the cause of which was suffi- 
ciently explained by the blood with which the carriage 
was flooded. The blood flowed from a large wound, 
struck by the unerring hand of a skillful practitioner ; 
and this wound, at its first appearance, seemed mor- 
tal. Of all the diamonds which sparkled on her neck 
and dangled from her ears, not one remained. Tho 
unhappy female had thus found an assassin instead of 
a lover, and theft was followed by an attempt at mur- 
der. The cries of the coachman were not long in draw- 
ing a crowd, among which was luckily a surgeon, who 
maintained that the lady was still alive. He got her 
conveyed to the nearest convent, which happened to 
be that of the Bernardines. The first duty of human- 
ity fulfilled, justice commenced its task ; but while tho 
physicians were restoring her to health, the efforts of 
the ministers of justice were not crowned with a like 
success. The coachman was first arrested; but he 
was soon released, having proved his perfect innocence; 
A young Spaniard, whose attentions to the fair Creole 
had been very marked for a long time, was then ap- 



116 DON TADEO'S STOEY. 

prehended. He learned at one and the same time both 
the infidelity and death of her whom he wished to be- 
come his wife. This was a terrible stroke." Here 
Don Tadeo's voice evidently broke, and he seemed as 
if he had lost his senses. "At the end of a year," 
continued the licentiate, " the Spaniard was released 
for want of proof; but he left the prison ruined by 
law expenses, and with a heart dead to all his former 
dear illusions. He then learned that she who had 
deceived him, and whom he had bewailed as dead, was 
still alive, but that she had renounced the world, and 
taken the veil in that convent to which she had been 
carried after the unhappy incident in the Paseo. He 
never attempted to see her ; but all his efibrts, all his 
thoughts were directed to one sole end — vengeance! 
Mexican justice had been unable to discover the assas- 
sin. He set on foot inquiries himself, and succeeded, 
although the judges declared that success was impos- 
sible." 

The licentiate here paused ; the bell was still toll- 
ing, and I began to undestand the emotions these mel- 
ancholy sounds awoke in his bosom. 

" This Spaniard, you have guessed already, I dare 
say, was myself. A letter had been found on the 
young Creole's person, inviting her to that private in- 
terview which had nearly terminated in her death. 
This was the only clew I had to guide me in the in- 
tricate labyrinth where Mexican justice had been at 
fault. Since then commenced a dark and uneasy pe- 
riod of my life, which death can alone put an end to. 
I condescended to live among thieves and murderers 
in the hope of unraveling, by their revelations, that 
secret which entirely absorbed me. Under color of 
exercising my profession, I mixed myself up in all 



DON TADEO'S STOEY. 117 

those cases wliicli would give me an opportunity of 
interrogating malefactors, and of penetrating into their 
haunts and places of amusement. Since then, not a 
single crime has been committed in Mexico whose per- 
petrator I could not hand over to justice. The most 
secret societies of criminals are well known to me in 
all their most intimate workings. You may perhaps 
have heard of that band of ensebados who for a whole 
year kept the Mexican capital in continual alarm. 
The ensebados were men who, after besmearing their 
naked bodies with grease or oil, threw themselves 
upon the benighted pedestrian and robbed him, and, 
in the event of resistance, plunged a dagger into his 
body. Only one of the bandits, as slippery as an eel, 
escaped from the soldiers who had managed to hunt 
down all the rest. Well, he was their chief. I know 
him ; and even now I could put -my hand on him, if I 
chose. This is not the only singular discovery I 
made. I could mention a thousand. Thanks to the 
perilous and watchful life I have led, I acquired an ex- 
perience which soon made me of incalculable benefit 
to the miserable cutthroats with whose singular ante- 
cedents I had thus become acquainted. Often, for 
days together, has my life been in danger, and more 
than one wretch has tried to stab me as a spy ; but the 
services which my knowledge of the law rendered to 
many of the rest proved my protection. Now, I am 
not a little proud of the influence which I exercise 
over the most redoubtable robbers in Mexico, and you 
see that I have under my orders an army willing to 
assist honest people who stand in need of my assist- 
ance." 

" Mine is a case in point," I replied, " and I am glad 
that I fell in with you ; but you have not informed 



118 DON TADEO'S STORY. 

rae whether you were successful in finding the assas- 
sin of the Paseo of Bucareli." 

" I was completely successful. I was lucky enough 
to fall in with the public scribe who had been em- 
ployed to write those fatal lines which had enticed my 
mistress to the Paseo. The evangelist knew the 
wretch, and he set me on his track. I found him out. 
I had but to denounce him, and justice would have 
pounced upon him ; but this would have defeated the 
object to which I had devoted my life. I did not be- 
tray him, therefore. Many years had rolled away 
since the attempt ; and, during that time, on account 
of my intercourse with such characters, I had learned 
more to pity than hate them. Nay, I often employ 
them to do certain pieces of business for me, which 
Mexican justice gives up as impossible. The assassin 
is still a useful instrument for me ; one, too, that I can 
crush at a word, but whom I prefer employing in the 
service of my numerous clients." 

Another pause. The toll of the bell was still heard. 
" I never saw my beloved again, who is now in a con- 
vent," continued Don Tadeo ; "but I learned from a 
sure quarter that she has been long in a deep con- 
sumption. You will now understand why the bell- 
peal of the Bernardines made me shudder." 

I was trying to persuade Don Tadeo to descend, that 
he might no longer hear the dismal toll of the passing- 
bell, when the trap-door of the azotea creaked lightly 
on its hinges, and the squint-eyed Mexican, called Na- 
vaja, glided rather than walked toward us. He was 
pale with fright, and looked uneasily behind him. 

"He is the devil in person!" cried he, leaning to 
take breath against the railing of the azotea. 

"Whom do you mean?" asked the licentiate. 



SARCASM OF THE LAWYER. 119 

"The American. He is just about finishing his 
third bottle of refino, and is shouting in a loud voice 
what he calls his war-song. He is a ferocious Indian, 
with a white man's skin. He is recounting all the 
hair he has raised, all the murders he has committed. 
And, would you believe it, he claims my scalp as an 
addition to his treasures. I tell you again, he is a 
devil." 

"What a saint you have become all at once!" said 
the licentiate, who again began to fling his sarcasms at 
the Mexican. "How long is it since you began to 
hate the smell of blood ?" 

The gayety of Don Tadeo was terrible to behold. 
This question of the licentiate's raised a hatred in his 
mind, fierce and implacable as the tiger's. Don Tadeo 
did not seem to take any notice of the impression he 
was producing, but, on the contrary, to delight in irri- 
tating the wretch, who foamed with anger under his 
cold, biting sarcasm. An allusion to the criminal at- 
tempt on the Paseo suddenly enlightened me as to this 
keen, bitter irony. Before me stood the man on whom 
the licentiate could take vengeance if he chose, at 
whose mercy he lived, and who had treacherously at- 
tempted the life of the unhappy female for whom the 
passing-bell was perliaps tolling at this very moment. 
" Does the peal of the Bernardines remind you of 
nothing ?" said Don Tadeo ; but this last sally de- 
prived the Mexican of all patience, and, instead of re- 
plying, he bounded forward to snatch the licentiate's 
rapier, but with a vigorous thrust of the arm he was 
hurled violently to the ground. 

"Come, now," cried the licentiate, "you forget the 
crime you committed. I forgive you, miscreant ; but 
out of this, instantly." 



120 AN INTEEPID LAWYER. 

The Mexican, stunned and stupefied, did not wait 
for a repetition of the order, but shuffled off precipi- 
tately. I could not help complimenting Don Tadeo 
on his coolness and courage. "What of that?" he 
said, with a melancholy smile. " You know the uni- 
versity in which I took my degree. I value my life 
only at its true worth. Let us go below. I under- 
stand your case thoroughly; and, before many days 
are passed, I hope to have some good news for you." 

We went down, and soon reached the great square 
upon which the Callejon del Arco opens. There we 
separated, the licentiate repairing to his abode, and I 
to mine, by the street Monterilla. " We shall meet 
again soon," said Don Tadeo to me on bidding me 
good-night. "I hope so," I replied, although I did 
not partake so heartily in that belief as did the intrep- 
id lawyer. I could not help comparing Don Tadeo 
in my own mind with those wild-beast tamers, who 
often astonish us by their deeds of courage and address, 
but whose least false step may transform them from 
masters to victims. 



CHAPTER IV. 



Manner of taking Possession in Mexico. — Tragical End of the Assassin 
of the Paseo. 

A MONTH passed away without Don Tadeo giving 
any signs of life. At last a note, that he had sent me 
by his clerk Ortiz, explained the reason of his long de- 
lay. There were two causes that hindered my case 
from being proceeded with according to his customary 
activity. " One of these you may probably guess," 
he said. " The passing-bell that we heard tolling was 



MY DEBT COMPKOMISED. 121 

for her I After the first burst of grief I was about to 
take up your case, when I received a dagger-stab from 
an invisible hand, the effects of which forced me to 
keep my bed for a considerable time. However, I 
am happy to be able to announce to you that your case 
is now progressing favorably. I succeeded in discov- 
ering, not without some trouble, the abode of Dionisio 
Peralta, and have set upon his traces the three knaves 
whom you saw the other night. Good-by ; take no 
step without consulting me, and in a short time you 
will receive more satisfactory news." 

Eight days had scarcely elapsed when I received 
another note from the licentiate. This letter contain- 
ed a detailed account of the campaign which he had 
conducted against Dionisio Peralto, and its happy 
termination. Pepito Rechifla, John Pearce the Yan- 
kee, and Navaja the Mexican, went, one after the 
other, to the house of Dionisio Peralta, claiming, as 
they said, the recovery of a debt with which they had 
been intrusted by their friend the licentiate, Don Ta- 
deo. Dionisio Peralta, in spite of his gentlemanly 
airs, was, to speak the truth, a knave of their own 
stamp, and received them at first with all the arro- 
gance of a bully ; but the significant threats of the 
three ruffians soon brought him to terms. Peralta 
knew but too well the character of the men with whom 
he had to deal, and the influence of the licentiate, who 
directed these bullies, rendered the odds decidedly 
against him. He at last ended by proposing a com- 
promise, which the licentiate had been constrained to 
accept. Peralta had a small villa in the little village 
of Tacuba, about a league from Mexico, the value of 
which was almost equal to the amount of the debt. He 
consented, in lieu of payment, to deliver up this house 

F 



122 WE SET OUT FOE TACUBA. 

to Don Tadeo, who had taken possession of it from the 
very first. There remained nothing noSv to wind up 
the affair but to receive the house from the hands of 
its new owner. Don Tadeo invited me to wait upon 
him the following day. We proposed to go together 
to the domain of my old debtor, of whose property he 
would install me as rightful owner. 

Next day we set out together on horseback for the 
village of Tacuba. I was somewhat curious to see 
my new property, and, above all, to witness the cere- 
monies which, in Mexico, ordinarily accompany the 
act of taking possession. On the road I congratulated 
the licentiate. on the lucky star which seemed to favor 
him, and that had on a recent occasion saved his life 
a second time. I expressed at the same time my re- 
gret that perhaps he had drawn upon himself the 
vengeance of Dionisio Peralto ; but he replied that I 
was wrong in my supposition, and that, to all appear- 
ance, the man who had attempted his life was no other 
than the same wretch who had assaulted the Creole 
lady in the Paseo of Bucareli. " Be that as it may," 
he added, " my suspicions of Navaja have not hinder- 
ed me from employing him in this business of yours, 
in which his zeal has been very conspicuous. Men 
of this class, when not in their cups or in a sullen 
mood, are blindly obedient to the person who has 
made them feel his superiority. In a letter which 
Peralto wrote me, announcing his acceptance of my 
terms, I read without regret the terrible menaces which 
he launched against this ruffian, whom I strongly sus- 
pect to have attempted my life, and who has shown 
himself the most active of the three in pursuit of your 
debtor. Peralta is hardly a man that will threaten in 
vain, and I fear his vengeance will follow quickly." 



TEANSFORMATION OF PEPITO. 123 

In conversation like this, we soon left the town be- 
hind us and got into the country, if the desert and 
arid plains that we crossed at full gallop could be so 
termed. The heat was stifling, and a deep silence lay 
around. All at once a horse's hoof broke the stillness, 
and we were joined by a cavalier, in whom I could 
hardly have recognized Pepito Rechifla. The ruffian 
had attired himself with some degree of elegance ; he 
wore a blue manga lined with yellow cotton, and his 
horse's equipments were of a character thoroughly 
Mexican. He saluted us with an air at once courtly 
and patronizing. " You will pardon me," he said, 
" Sefior Licentiate, if I take the liberty of traveling in 
your company ; but, aware of your intention to take 
a short ride to-day, I thought you would not be the 
worse of having an additional companion. This road 
does not bear a very good character ;" and, casting an 
expressive look at the arm which the lawyer carried 
in a sling, he added, "it is not always prudent to run 
into dangers at a distance from home. I am, howev- 
er, pretty sure that we shall not 'need to draw upon 
any body to-day." 

Having finished this last sentence with a drawling 
affectedness, Pepito whispered into the ear of the li- 
centiate some words which I could not make out. I 
only remarked that he pointed out to Don Tadeo a 
group of hillocks on our left, over which hovered a 
flock of great black vultures. Without replying to 
Pepito, the licentiate stopped his horse a moment, and 
looked in a different direction. His face had a pain- 
ful expression in it. He then signed to us to continue 
our route, spurred his horse vigorously, and a few min- 
utes after we clattered through the streets of the vil- 
lage in which my new property was situated. 



124 MY HOUSE AND ITS APPEARANCE. 

The house which Don Tadeo had gained (for he had 
at first taken possession in his own name) was situated 
at the extremity of the village. Crowds of villagersj 
who had assembled to share in the largesses which are 
usually distributed on an occasion of this kind, stood 
before the house, and assisted us in recognizing it. It 
was a little building ot a very sorry appearance, with 
a small porch before the door, supported by brick pil- 
lars. Numerous cracks furrowed the walls in every di- 
rection, clearly indicating a sad state of disrepair. Be- 
hind the house was a garden choked with weeds, sur- 
rounded by a wall thickly covered with moss, and 
crowned with pellitories. The porter, whom the licen- 
tiate had put in charge of the house, opened the door. 
" You are in your own house," said Don Tadeo to me. 
We entered. The interior of the house was as deso- 
late as the exterior. The ceilings were gaping with 
chinks, the disjointed boards in the stairs creaked sad- 
ly under foot, and the garden was nothing more than 
a collection of sentern, nettles, and thistles, in the 
midst of which rose some sickly- looking fruit-trees. 
This wretched house and garden, however, were al- 
most equal to the debt, and that was sufficient ; the 
more in the case of such a debtor as Peralta was, with 
whom one could not be too exacting. 

After visiting the ground floor and the garden, we 
went up stairs. The room which we first entered 
seemed to have been a dining-room, and had not been 
entered for many years, if one could judge from the 
musty smell which pervaded the apartment. We hast- 
ened to let in the air and light by opening the strong- 
ly-barred window-shutters. A collection of spiders' 
webs, thickly matted together, covered the entire ceil- 
ing. We looked into the presses, but they were all 



MEXICAN WITNESSES. 125 

empty ; one only contained a large dusty tome, in an 
antique binding, which the licentiate put under his 
cloak after hurriedly glancing over its contents. Our 
inspection was over. " Let us call the witnesses," 
said Don Tadeo to Pepito, whom we have constituted 
upon this solemn occasion master of the ceremonies. 
The lepero, magnificently dressed in his blue manga, 
advanced to the casement, and made a short speech to 
the worthy people in rags, who were collected in groups 
beneath the windows. The eloquence of Pepito had 
the desired effect, and a few minutes afterward the 
court was filled with a far greater number of witnesses 
than the law required. I had never seen such a rich 
collection of gallows-birds. Preceded by Pepito, we 
descended into the court, and thence into the garden, 
followed by the crowd. " Seiiores," cried Pepito, in a 
loud voice, "you are witnesses that, in the name of 
the law, his lordship here present," and Pepito pointed 
to me, " takes regular possession of this estate. Dios 
y Lihertad /" Don Tadeo then came forward. By 
his instructions I first plucked a handful of grass and 
threw it over my head, and then pitched a stone over 
the garden wall. These, by the terms of the Mexican 
law, are the ceremonies which accompany the act of 
taking possession. A general hurrah now burst from 
the throats of the respectable company assembled in 
the garden. All that now remained, according to na- 
tional usage, was to present some gratuity to the dirty 
ruffians who had crawled from every corner of the vil- 
lage to wish me joy of my new possession. I gave 
them a few piastres to drink, and, headed by Pepito, 
they went to spend them in the neighboring cabaret. 

"Well," said the licentiate to me, when we were 
alone, " you see you have got payment of your debt. 



126 THE lawyer's souvenir. 

What do you think of mj plan for making stubborn 
debtors pay?" 

" I fear, Don Tadeo, that you are playing a very 
dangerous game for yourself; and, if you would take 
my advice, you would give up business immediately as 
redresser of wrongs, as I think the losses exceed the 
profits." 

" You see, howerer, that I am fortunate in my en- 
terprises. Never mind. But as I may prematurely 
receive a dagger-thrust some day or other, I would like 
you to keep some remembrance of me. Here is a book 
which was not comprised in the inventory of the house. 
It is an old work, and not without its value." 

" Thank you," said I to the licentiate, taking the 
dusty tome. " The story that you told me on the 
azotea of the house in the Callejon del Arco will ever 
live in vc\j recollection. One can not easily forget 
such revelations ; and I was very fortunate indeed in 
listening to such a romantic history." 

The time had now come when we must return to 
Mexico. Without waiting for Pepito, who would prob- 
ably finish the day at a wine-shop, we pushed along. 
The heat was as insupportable as before. The flock 
of vultures that Pepito had pointed out to Don Tadeo 
had evidently increased, and a fetid odor was wafted 
by the wind in our direction from the little mounds 
above which the birds were fluttering. The licentiate 
drew up suddenly. 

" If you are curious to read the last page of the his- 
tory of which we were just talking," said he, " go over 
to these hillocks ; but I fear your nerves are not strong 
enough." 

"And what shall I see among these rocks?" 

"A corpse; you observe that at this very moment 



THE LAST OF THE ASSASSIN. 127 

the birds are pecking at it. One of the three ruffians 
whom I employed to recover your debt has paid for all 
the others. God is just ! The man who fell under 
the dagger of Peralta was the perpetrator of the out- 
rage on the Paseo of Bucareli. The romance is now 
complete, is it not ?" 

" Assuredly ; and the sight of the vultures will add 
to the impression your story has made upon me." 

^" Come," said the licentiate, spurring his horse, "I 
see you are getting nervous. To town, then." 

We parted on the Plaza Mayor in the hope of see- 
ing one another again, but fortune decreed otherwise ; 
and a few weeks after my installation in Peralta's 
house I quitted Mexico. 

During my absence the gambling-house in the Cal- 
lejon was closed. On my return, Tio Lucas informed 
me that the licentiate had returned to Spain. Since 
that time I have made many ineffectual attempts to 
procure some information about him. The only sou- 
venir that was left me of this extraordinary man is 
the manuscript of Alonso Urbano, now in the Nation- 
al Library at Paris. 



Hemigio llaaque^ 



CHAPTER I. 

There is one peculiar charm in the towns of Mex- 
ico, and that is the perfect straightness of the streets, 
along which the eye wander^ till the point of sight 
terminates in the blue hills of the country. In Mex- 
ico especially I was never tired gazing upon the mount- 
ains which hound the horizon upon all sides. On the 
east I seemed to hear the murmur of the Pacific, and 
on the west the hoarse roar of the Atlantic sounding 
from behind these mountains. The first of these 
oceans reminded me of one of the most adventurous 
epochs of my life ; and I never could forget that the 
second washed the shores of my native country. I 
never looked in that direction without feeling a kind 
of regret and sadness, which often merged into feverish 
anxiety. In this state of mind, I grasped at every 
thing which could afford me a pretext for quitting 
Mexico. I hastened to shake off the sluggishness 
which began to weigh upon me, and to abandon my- 
self anew to the dangers and emotions of a wandering 
life — a sure remedy against home-sickness. 

One evening, on reaching home, I learned that a 
stranger had called during my absence. The unknown 
had said that his business with me related to a mat- 
ter of life and death ; but, when asked to leave his 



A MEXICAN INNKEEPER. 129 

name, had obstinately refused to give it. He happen- 
ed to saj, however, that he was living at an inn, the 
Meson de Jiegina, and had gone away expressing great 
annoyance at not finding me, and promising to return 
the next day. The strange air of the visitor, the nu- 
merous questions he put, the care that he evidently 
took not to allow his face to be seen by arranging the 
folds of his blue manga over it, and the large hat which 
shaded his eyes, combined to give to this visit a mys- 
terious character, which acted very strongly on my im- 
agination. When alone in my chamber, I called to 
recollection every one whom it might possibly be, but 
in vain, and I waited anxiously for the next day, which 
might probably unriddle the enigma ; but the morn- 
ing passed, the day advanced, and the unknown had 
not made his appearance. I resolved to go to the 
Meson de Regina; and, having got a description of the 
stranger, set out for the inn. 

Although situated in one of the most central streets 
in Mexico, the Meson de Regina is only distinguished 
from other inns on less frequented roads by the greater 
number of travelers who are always coming and going. 
There is the same range of stabling, the same barren- 
ness of furniture, the same absence of every comfort. 
I called for the huesped. In any other country it 
would have been an easy thing to find out the name 
of the unknown, whose costume I could describe to the 
most minute details, but it is very different in a Mex- 
ican hotel. 

"Do you fancy," said the huesped to me, "that it 
is my business to ask the names of those who frequent 
my house ? I have something else to think of, I as- 
sure you ; but as for the person you are inquiring aft- 
er, he set out, not half an hour ago, for Cuantitlan, as 
F 2 



130 PEPARATIONS FOE A EIDE. 

his servant, who accompanied him, informed me, and, 
if you are a swift horseman, you may overtake him, if 
you are so very desirous to know his name." 

"What was the color of their horses?" 

" Iron-gray and peach-blossom." 

A ride of some hours before dinner could not but be 
'salutary. Before setting out in pursuit of the stran- 
ger, I went home in order to ask some more questions 
of Cecilio, my valet, about my visitant. This lad had 
been already several years in my service, and his round 
chubby face, with an air at once hypocritical and sim- 
ple, reminded me strongly of Ambrosio of Lamela in 
Gil Bias. As I expected, he gave me a very unsatis- 
factory description of the unknown. I then disclosed 
to Cecilio my intention of setting out immediately for 
Cuantitlan, ordering him at the same time to saddle 
our horses with all speed. Cecilio tried to convince 
me that, in an affair of so delicate a nature, it were 
best if I went alone, but I reiterated mj order, and he 
left the room to execute my commands. As I was go- 
ing to travel in the country, I donned my Mexican cos- 
tume, and went down into the court in all haste. I 
remarked, without surprise, that my seraj^e had been 
attached to the back of my saddle. My pistols were 
in their holsters ; and I also carried a lance with a 
scarlet pennon, heavily shod with iron, which I was 
accustomed, when traveling, to have fixed to my right 
stuTup. A sabre hung from Cecilio's saddle-bow, and 
a tolerably well-packed valise was fixed to the croup 
of his horse. I asked him why he was making such 
preparations, as we were only going out for a short 
ride; but his only answer was, that the environs of 
Mexico were infested by robbers. 

We set out. The travelers we were in pursuit of 



A DISAPPOINTMENT. 131 

could not be more than an hour in advance of us, and 
the unusual color of their horses would aid us in track- 
ing them easily. I flattered myself that if we pushed 
on we could overtake them without difficulty in two 
hours, and if that were beyond our power, a couple of 
fresh horses would not take long to cover the six 
leagues between Mexico and Cuantitlan. I thus set 
out with the intention of returning before sunset. The 
difference of speed, however, between my horse and 
that of my servant, forced me to slacken my pace. 
Two hours had already rolled away without catching 
the slightest glimpse of the man I was in quest of, and 
the spire of Cuantitlan had not even come in sight. I 
almost feared that the inn-keeper had sent us the wrong 
road, when some muleteers, returning to Mexico, told 
me that they had met two horsemen, one mounted on 
an iron-gray, the other on a peach-blossom. We reach- 
ed Cuantitlan in a short time, and I was directed to 
the hostelry where the two horsemen had stopped. I 
had not been long in coming hither, and was at last 
soon to know what I was burning to learn. I went 
to the inn which had been pointed out to me, and my 
foot had no sooner reached the ground than I began 
questioning the huesped with the air of one who is sure 
of finding what he wants. 

" Are your horses tired ?" said the host, when I had 
finished. 

"No." 

" Well, that's something, for the travelers only en- 
tered my house for refreshment and then left, and it 
will be fresh horses alone that can overtake them." 

And the host, who interested himself as much, if 
that could be, with tlie horsemen that passed his house 
as with those that lived within it, turned his back upon 



132 WE CONTINUE THE PURSUIT, 

me with the politeness pecuHar to his class. I vault- 
ed again into my saddle. A quarter of an hour more, 
thought I, would explain to me a certain defiant rail- 
lery which Cecilio had taken little pains to suppress. 
To my great mortification, however, the time rolled 
away ; niglit was coming on, and the shades of even- 
ing were falling insensibly around. Night at last fell ; 
and I would have given up this long-protracted chase, 
had not wounded self-esteem goaded me as much as 
curiosity. A solemn silence hrooded over the road we 
were pursuing. Sometimes I stopped, fancying I heard 
Ibefore me the stamp of horses' feet, and then redoubled 
my pace with ardor, till the unbroken stillness which 
reigned around showed that I had been under a delu- 
sion. Still, the certainty of being on the traces of the 
unknown kept up my spirits, for, from Mexico to the 
place where we now were, not even a bridle-path join- 
ed our road. All the probabilities were in my favor. 
However, after a six hours' ride we required rest, and 
a twelve leagues' gallop rendered a halt necessary for 
our horses. It was, besides, time to set about looking 
for a place to put up, for in Mexico there are two req- 
uisites for getting into an inn ; the first is, that the 
inn please the travelers ; and the second, that the hour 
and the travelers please the inn-keeper. Luckily, I 
was not long in discovering a light in a cabin stand- 
ing by itself, toward which we spurred our horses. 
Our host informed us that two horsemen had passed 
his house about half an hour before we came up, but 
the night was so dark that he could not distinguish 
the color of their horses. As he was sure that they 
must stop a short way off to pass the night, we de- 
cided to stay where we were till dawn, hoping to over- 
take them on the following morning. I considered 



AND ARRIVE AT A HACIENDA. 133 

that if we were off before sunrise we could easily make 
up for lost time. Unfortunately, Cecilio did not rise 
next morning till late, and the sun was high in the 
heavens ere we found ourselves on the road. I had, 
however, gone too far to recede, and, besides, I had 
now a definite aim to pursue. Cecilio did not view 
the case in the same light as myself, and it was with 
a slight feeling of despair that every now and then he 
informed me of the number of leagues we had traveled 
since we left Mexico. But, though seen by so many 
people, the travelers seemed to slip from me as if by 
magic at the very moment I was flattering myself that 
I had overtaken them. I had already passed through 
the rocky defile of the Caiiada, and had left behind me 
the hacienda of St. Francisco. During my journey I 
had inquired at every rancho^ and at all the ordinary 
halting-places, and every one concurred in saying that 
two mounted travelers, one on an iron-gray, the other 
on a peach-blossom, could be only a short distance in 
advance. 

" These two travelers are surely a brace of devils," 
said Cecilio, sadly, " or two great criminals at least, 
as they seem to stop to rest nowhere." 

Without replying, I continued my route, for I did 
not wish to have the worst in this contest, and a kind 
of phrensy began to take the place of my former curi- 
osity. For the second time since leaving Mexico the 
sun set behind the hills that lay before us, and still 
there was no hope of attaining the object of our jour- 
ney. Our horses, jaded by a ride of twenty hours, 
were beginning to be fatigued ; and it was with a live- 
ly satisfaction that I perceived, by the last gleams of 
departing day, the red walls of the hacienda of Ar- 
royo Zarco. 



134 ARROYO ZARCO. 



CHAPTER 11. 

The Hacienda of Arroyo Zarco. — The young Mexican Lady. — The 
young Spanish Nobleman. — Don Tomas Verdugo. 

The hacienda of Arroyo Zarco is a vast and impos- 
ing building, built partly of brick and partly of large 
stones, situated almost at the entrance to the extensive 
and fertile plains of Bajio. The place, however, where 
this hacienda rises, is far from presenting the smiling 
appearance which characterizes the basin bearing its 
name. It stands on a flat, barren plain, where grow 
a few melancholy-looking stunted trees, one or two of 
which shade the back walls of the building : a little 
brook of bluish-looking water, the fountain-head of 
which is not far off, gives the name of Arroyo Zarco 
(blue rivulet) to the hacienda. A large square court, 
ornamented on its four sides with stone arches like the 
cloisters of a convent, forms a kind of vestibule to the 
apartments of the family. The rooms devoted to trav- 
elers are under these galleries. Stables, large enough 
to contain with ease a whole regiment of cavalry, make 
up two or three other courts. It was the only place 
at which I could put up within six leagues, and here 
I hoped to find the travelers I was in quest of, pro- 
vided I had not taken the wrong road. 

"We have come thirty-two leagues since yester- 
day," said Cecilio, taking my bridle, with a sigh, "and 
if your lordship persist in continuing the pursuit, per- 
haps it will only be prudent and advisable if I return 



I VISIT THE STABLES. — AN AEEIVAL. 135 

to Mexico to dissipate the uneasiness that will proba- 
bly arise there on your account." 

" The duty of a good servant is to accompany his 
master every where," was my reply ; and, going up to 
the stable-boy, I began to put some questions to liim 
regarding the travelers who had arrived before us. 
From him I learned that about forty travelers had 
stopped at the hacienda in the afternoon, and, for want 
of better information, I was obliged to content myself 
by a personal inspection of the stables. I ought to 
have gone there at first without making any inquiries ; 
and, as there was still some daylight, I directed my 
steps to the courts. A great number of horses were 
munching their provender in their stalls, and, from the 
joyful eagerness with which they ate, I could see that 
they had come a long distance ; but I could hardly 
contain myself for joy when I distinguished side by 
side, like two faithful companions, the iron-gray and 
the peach-blossom.' This was but the beginning of 
success ; for, to complete the discovery, I must ex- 
amine nearly sixty travelers, for there was almost that 
number of horses in the stables. This, to speak the 
truth, was almost impracticable — dangerous, perhaps, 
in one .respect, and ridiculous in another. 

.As I was going along the lobby which led to my 
room, where I intended to rest a short time previous 
to resuming the pursuit, a coach, drawn by eight mules, 
and escorted by three horsemen armed with muskets 
and sabres, came rattling into the court-yard. The ar- 
rival of a carriage at a Mexican inn is always an event 
of some importance ; it bespeaks travelers of distinc- 
tion, or, better still, the presence of females, whom, 
though they may not perhaps be young, the excite- 
ment of travel invests with a thousand illusory charms. 



136 A MEXICAN BEAUTY. 

While the three horsemen who formed the escort, and 
the two coachmen who conducted the team, were wrang- 
ling with the huesped, the court all the time tilled with 
strange figures, one of the horsemen alighted and ad- 
vanced respectfully to open the carriage door. A man 
of a certain age descended first, a younger person fol- 
lowed, and, before any one had time to offer her their 
hand, a young lady hurried out after them. She wore 
a costume adopted by several rich rancheras when 
traveling, an attire which suits equally well the car- 
riage or the side-saddle. She carried in her hand a 
hat with a broad brim ; and her manga, richly orna- 
mented with silk velvet and gold lace, could not hide 
entirely her fine flexible figure, and bare, sunburned 
arms. Her uncovered head left exposed her beautiful 
black hair ; and her eyes, as black, and not less brill- 
iant, gazed around in the free bold style peculiar to 
Mexican women. She seemed evidently seeking for 
some one in the group that surrounded her ; but when 
she saw the unknown faces which greeted her, she veil- 
ed them modestly under her eyelids. 

Night came on, and the young lady had retired to 
one of the chambers of the hacienda when another 
traveler entered the court-yard. The new-comer was 
a young man, evidently about five or six-and-twenty, 
tall and well made. Though poorly clad, his dress 
was unstudiously elegant, and a fine black mustache 
heightened the dignity of his appearance. The pre- 
dominant expression of his countenance was at once 
haughty and sad, but his face was remarkable at times 
for a singularly winning sweetness. A little mando- 
lin hung round his neck, and at the pommel of his 
saddle dangled an old rusty rapier. The lean and 
somewhat scraggy horse he rode was followed by an- 



THE UNKNOWN CAVALIER. — JOY AND SORROW. 137 

other ready saddled and bridled. I could not help 
feeling a touch of pity for this poor young man with 
the melancholy face. The famine-stricken appearance 
of both horses and master showed but too well the 
hardships which they had endured in common — ^long 
journeys executed upon little or no food, and entire 
days passed probably without sustenance of any kind. 
Like the other travelers, the cavalier called the hues- 
ped ; but, instead of addressing him in a loud voice, 
he stooped from his saddle and whispered in his ear. 
The huesped, in reply, shook his head ; a cloud passed 
over the face of the unknown, he colored slightly, look- 
ed sorrowfully at the unharnessed carriage, twitched 
his bridle, and left the hacienda. 

It was now time for me, however, to look after my 
own business. The joy of Cecilio, when he found that 
the two horses of our travelers were in the stables of 
the inn, was changed into despair when I communi- 
cated to him my orders. As I could not interrogate 
sixty travelers, I ordered him to saddle our horses at 
midnight, and station himself along with me in the 
court-yard near the gate. In this way not a single 
traveler could leave the place at any hour of the night 
without my knowledge. This point arranged, I left 
Cecilio plunged in melancholy reflection at the pros- 
pect of a night to be passed in the open air, and hast- 
ened to the kitchen, which, according to the custom of 
the country, served also for a dining-room. 

In this vast hall, travelers of every kind — traders, 
military men, arrieros, and servants, were seated round 
a number of tables placed near the fire. I sat down 
like the rest, and, during the whole time of my meal, 
kept my ears open to catch the conversation that was 
going on. I did not, however, pay much attention to 



138 A LITTLE LIGHT. — DISAPPOINTMENT. 

it, as it consisted only of stories of robbers, storms, 
impassable torrents — favorite topics of conversation 
with all travelers. Weary at last of listening to a 
series of questions and answers in which there was 
nothing interesting, I asked the landlady, in a loud 
voice, about the two horses, the colors of which I men- 
tioned, that were then in the stable. I was more for- 
tunate at first than I hoped. I learned that one of 
the individuals was the Senor Don Tomas Verdugo, 
who had arrived about an hour before me ; but, being 
pressed for time, he only waited till he got a relay of 
horses, and then departed, leaving at the hacienda the 
two horses he had brought with him till his next ar- 
rival. 

"Although it seems strange that you can have any 
business with him," added the landlady, " I know 
that he will stay two days at Celayo, and you will 
find him at the Meson de Guadalupe, where he is ac- 
customed to put up." 

I was very anxious to elicit some more information, 
but the wary hostess kept herself very reserved, and I 
quitted the kitchen very mu|^ disappointed to learn 
that I had still a forty leagues'^tide before meeting my 
mysterious visitor, but delig^ed to find that I knew 
his name, and had a certain aim to pursue. After 
countermanding my order to Cecilio, as it was not late 
— and sleep is a long time in visiting a stony couch, 
especially when one is very much fatigued — I went 
and sat down at the outer gate of the hacienda, a few 
paces from the high road. 

The country round lay as still and silent as if it 
had been midnight, and the moOH»shone brightly over- 
head. In the horizon the hills began to put on their 
nocturnal russet. Upon the whitened plain, the moist- 



THE GUITAR PLAYEE. 139 

ure from the earth, condensed by the coldness of the 
night, looked in the distance like a tranquil lake, and 
fi'om among the vapor towered aloft some aloes which 
gi'ow upon this rocky soil. In this mournful solitude, 
in an inhospitable country, where a thousand dangers 
surround the traveler, especially when he is a foreign- 
er, my present enterprise appeared for the first time in 
its true light — a perilous folly. For the first time, 
also, since my departure from Mexico, my heart failed 
me, and I was almost on the point of retracing my 
steps, when, as I was taking, as I fancied, a last look 
at the scene, I thought I heard, amid the stillness ot 
the night, the distant sounds of a guitar. This came, 
probably, from a party of muleteers who had bivou- 
acked at some distance, or some groom who was play- 
ing to his fellows in one of the inn stables. Without 
stirring, I listened to the strains broken by the dis- 
tance, when gTadually, out of the stillness, a vocal ac- 
companiment stole along on the night air. Owing to 
the profound silence that prevailed, I easily made out 
the words of the song; it was a Sipa-nish J^omaticero ; 
but the musician, through some odd fancy, had accom- 
panied it with a refrain, consisting of some by-words 
very much in use among the Mexican people. This 
singularity raised in me a desire to see the player. At 
a short distance from the hacienda, and at the foot of 
a low hill which overtopped it, I observed the flickering 
liglit of a fire. One side of the singer's face was bright- 
ly illuminated by the blaze, and near him, two horses, 
tied together by a long cord, were cropping the scanty 
grass which grew on that stony soil. I advanced qui- 
etly, so as not to interrupt the unknown ; but the 
noise of my footsteps betrayed me, and the music 
stopped all at once. The stranger rose hurriedly; 



140 WHO GOES THERE? 

the graze of a sword which he was unsheathing struck 
my ear. The adventure was Ibecoming less pleasant 
than I had anticipated. I stopped, then advanced 
again ; and, loy the light of the lire, I distinguished 
the young man whom I had seen in the court-yard of 
the inn, but whom I little expected to find again so 
near me. 

" Who goes there ?" he exclaimed in Spanish, and 
in a pure Castilian accent. 

"A friend!" I cried; "but put up your rapier; I 
am alone and unarmed." 

The moon lighted up the surrounding objects so 
clearly that the Spaniard was convinced that I had 
spoken the truth, and he returned it to its sheath. 

"Pardon my indiscretion, Senor Cavalier," I said, 
advancing into the illuminated circle; "I have been 
drawn to you, I must say, only by a motive of curi- 
osity. If I am not deceived, you are, like myself, a 
foreigner, and, as such, almost a friend." 

In spite of my politeness, the stranger's features still 
kept an air of haughty defiance. He seated himself, 
however, and invited me, with a wave of his hand, to 
do the same. I did so without ceremony. 

"I am a Spaniard, it is true," answered my new 
companion, haughtily : " but, throughout the whole of 
America, is not a Spaniard at home ? It is now my 
turn to ask pardon of you for deeming you a spy sent 
by-" 

The Spaniard stopped all at once. 

" By whom ?" I inquired. 

"You are welcome," said the unknown, without re- 
plying. He accepted a cigar which I offered him, and 
we began to smoke with all the gravity which charac- 
terizes Indian warriors round a council fire. By the 



THE YOUNG SPANIARD. — A CONFIDANT. 141 

light of the moon, aided by that of the fire, I could 
easily see, what I had before noticed, that the hard 
privations which the Spaniard had endured had left in- 
effaceable traces of mental suffering on his brow, but 
without altering in the least his noble physiognomy. 

" Did you compose those verses yourself," I asked, 
*' which I have so indiscreetly interrupted, and whose 
originality has struck me so much ?" 

" No ; I only adapted them to an air of ray own 
composition for an affair which it would be too tedi- 
ous to relate to you." 

There was evidently an attempt at concealment in 
this reply, which whetted my curiosity. I resolved to 
make a confidant of the young Spaniard by telling him 
the object of my journey, and the many checks I had 
experienced since my departure from Mexico. 

" Our positions are not dissimilar," said the Span- 
iard, when I had done. "Like you, I am pursuing a 
nameless object ; but thank God that you have been 
saved from the dangers that I have undergone." 

"Tell me about them," I said. "I like a story 
told in the open air — at night above all, and in the 
light of a fire like this." 

"Be it so," said the Spaniard. "I shall begin by 
telling you that I am a Biscayan and a nobleman ; not 
by election, like most of my compatriots, but descend- 
ed from a long line of ancestors, who recognize Lope 
Chouria as the chief of their ancient clan. My name 
is Don Jaime de Villalobos. I bear another name here 
for common use. My mother has the first rank in my 
affection, then my father, and lastly my country. You 
now know me, Senor Cavalier. I am now about to 
tell you of the affair in which I am at present en- 
gaged." 



142 THE YOUNG SPANIARD'S STOEY. 

The slight ak of superciHousness with which he be- 
gan his storj was not displeasing to me ; it was like 
a continuation of the Romancero of which the young 
nobleman had been singing a verse a short time be- 
fore. He continued with more simplicity. 

" Unfortunately, I was born poor, though of noble 
blood. More than once during my infancy have I 
been awakened from sleep by the rude ice-wind which 
whistled without obstruction through the ruined man- 
or-house in which my mother and I dwelt. As a com- 
pensation, God gave me a good appetite, which made 
me forget the cold. I shot up apace ; my noble birth 
interdicted me from all manual labor and servile em- 
ployment ; and to leave my mother, who was now 
growing old, and take service in the army, was a step 
which was not in accordance with my inclination. 
However, I could not long remain a stranger to the 
civil war which was then raging in the Basque Prov- 
inces. Don Carlos, you are perhaps aware, often for- 
got to pay his officers and soldiers, and all that I gain- 
ed in his service was the honor of being a creditor of 
his noble highness. Returning to my maternal abode, 
I was grieved to find it more dilapidated than ever, 
and to feel still more the anguish which rent my moth- 
er's heart, for I saw her sinking day after day under 
the double burden of old age and poverty. One even- 
ing a peddler came and demanded hospitality of us, 
and as he only asked for shelter, we granted it. His 
wandering life had enabled him to pick up all sorts 
of news, and I learned from him that one of our 
neighbors had made a wealthy marriage in New- 
Spain. 

" ' What a capital thing it would be,' said he, ' if a 
young nobleman like you could be so lucky in that 



THE YOUNG SPANIAED's STORY. 143 

land of gold and silver, where the ambition of all the 

women is summed up in the couplet, 

" ' Canrisas de Britana,* 
Y maridos de EspaSa.' 

In my present position a rich marriage was the only- 
resource left me, and I resolved to go to the New World 
and seek my fortune. I communicated my hopes to 
my mother. The payment of a debt gave me the means 
of procuring a passage in a ship from Bilboa ; and full 
of hopes of being able to bring back a fortune to my 
mother, which was my only ambition, I set sail. I 
arrived at Vera Cruz a year ago, and visited the church- 
es assiduously, the only place where the fair inhabit- 
ants delight to show themselves, but not one deigned 
to give me the slightest countenance. At night in the 
deserted streets I watched long, but to no purpose, for 
none appeared. I knew well that if I did not announce 
my presence under a window, I ran a risk of spending 
my nights as fruitlessly as my days. I had then re- 
course to music, and purchased a mandolin. Unluck- 
ily, though a passable musician, I was not poet enough 
to compose a good serenading song, and was forced to 
tack on to an old Romancero a piece of a wretched 
ballad that I remembered — the miserable bit of dog- 
gerel which had incited me to quit the old manor- 
house. I was engaged in singing that when you in- 
terrupted me." 

The Spaniard here began to smoke with the air of" 
a man who is resolved to do his duty conscientiously. 

"And you are not much older than a boy," said 
I, much surprised at the abrupt conclusion of Don 
Jaime's story. 

* Chemises from Brittany, 

And husbands from Spain. 



144 BEHIND THE AGE. A MEAGKE SUPPER. 

" An old maid, a sort of duenna, who had worn lin- 
en of Brittany for many years, had no objection to me 
on that score. You understand my object in coming 
here was to get a young, rich, and beautiful wife. Had 
the duenna been rich, for my mother's sake I would 
have married her, but she was neither rich nor young, 
and had never been pretty." 

'*' 'Tis a thousand pities," said I; "you are half a 
century behind, Senor Don Jaime. Fifty years ago 
every chance would have been in favor of a cavalier 
of your figure and appearance. Now I am afraid that 
time is past." 

An almost imperceptible smile broke upon the lips 
of the Biscayan, but I could not guess whether it was 
caused by the compliment I had paid him, or pity for 
the incredulity I had manifested. 

" Since you are in the indulgent vein, and I in the 
indiscreet one, Senor Don Jaime, allow me to ask you 
this last question — Have you supped to-night ?" 

The brow of the Spaniard lowered. I feared I had 
abused rights acquired on such a slender acquaintance 
as mine ; but his noble self-respect never gave way. 
He was, besides, too much of a gentleman to blush 
because he was poor. 

" I have," replied he, with a gracious smile. " May 
I have the honor of offering you a portion of my sup- 
per?" 

The Spaniard tendered me a cigarette. 

" What ! v/as that all your supper ?" 

"A cigarette! fie on it; it is, in truth, somewhat 
too meagre a repast for the last descendant of the 
Counts of Biscay. I have consumed more than a doz- 
en of them, and have not made a very good supper." 

This seemed to have exhausted the patience of the 



HOSPITALITr. 145 

poor nobleman. He said nothing for a few moments, 
and then, with an air of cahn dignity, exclaimed, 

" Senor Cavalier, I have granted you the only thing 
it was in my power to bestow in this world — my hos- 
pitality, such as it is. Enjoy yourself at my fire as 
much as you please ; but, after a hard day's journey, 
you will pardon me if I betake myself to rest. May 
God bless and protect you!" 

The Biscayan threw some sticks upon the fire, wrap- 
ped himself up in his cloak," and, after bidding me 
good-night with a wave of his hand, lay down. I 
threw my eyes mechanically around. More fortunate 
than their master, and half hidden by the icy fog of 
evening, the two horses cropped the short, withered 
grass which grew on the stony plain. My heart swell- 
ed, and a deep feeling of respectful sympathy took 
possession of me at seeing this deep misery so nobly 
supported. 

" Senor Don Jaime," said I, with a broken voice, 
" I thank you for the hospitality you have shown me, 
and, in return, I should be both proud and happy if 
you would take the use of my chamber in the venta.'''' 

The young traveler started and sat up ; his eyes 
sparkled in his pale face. He seemed to hesitate for 
a moment ; he then held out his hand. 

"I accept your offer," he said; " you will do me 
a service I shall never forget. I must now tell you, 
in confidence, that I had vainly solicited that accom- 
modation from the huesped, for which I was too poor 
to pay, but which on this night, and this night only, 
I would thankfully have paid for with my heart's 
blood." 

This reply was an additional mystery to me ; but 
I had now become Don Jaime's host, and that pre- 



146 SUPPEll FOE TWO. 

vented me from asking any questions. We took the 
two horses bj the bridle, and, without exchanging a 
word, returned to the venta. 



CHAPTER III. 

The Elopement. 



After my new companion had been installed in my 
chamber, I went out under pretense of seeing that the 
horses were taken care of, and ordered Cecilio to fetch 
from the kitchen a supper sufficient for two persons. 
The Biscayan, after some ceremony, seemed quite will- 
ing to accompany me in my repast. I had already 
made a good supper, but, for politeness' sake, I took a 
small portion to bear him company, my guest mean- 
while doing justice to the viands, and quite lost in 
wonder at my abstemiousness. 

" How can I help it ?" said I, in explanation ; "this 
is my first run through the country, and I have not 
yet got accustomed to their infernal cookery." 

And while Cecilio, standing behind my chair, open- 
ed his eyes wide on hearing me say that I had but 
newly come into the country, I could not help ad- 
miring the prodigious appetite that had been develop- 
ed by a fast of twenty-four hours. 

"Now," said I, when the dishes were all cleared, 
"if the neighborhood of a young and charming lady, 
whose chamber is next to mine, does not hinder you 
from sleeping, I fancy you will do well to imitate me." 
And I muffled myself in my cloak, and lay down on 
the floor, 

"Not a bad idea," said the Spaniard. "But, be- 



DISAPPEAEANCE OF THE SPANIARD. 147 

fore going to sleep, perhaps jou would like to hear an 
air on my mandolin." 

" Use your freedom, hut pray pardon me if the 
melody set me asleep." 

In spite of the hard and cold couch on which I was 
reclining, in a short time I heard nothing but a con- 
fused murmur of broken notes, and then consciousness 
forsook me. I awoke with a start, under the impres- 
sion that a strong chilling draught was setting full 
upon me. The long, thin candle which had been 
stuck to the wall of the chamber was throwing; its 
last dull, smoky glare around. The Spaniard had 
disappeared. I was alone ; and the chamber door, 
which had been left open, had allowed the cold night 
air to enter and awake me. A dead silence reigned 
through the hacienda, broken only by the distant 
crowing of the cock. I listened, surprised at the ab- 
rupt disappearance of my companion, and rose and 
shut the door, and, while doing so, threw a hasty 
glance into the court-yard. From amid the darkness 
I thought I discerned two black profiles half hidden 
by a column. One of them was that of the Biscayan, 
whose voice I could distinguish, although he spoke 
low ; the other was unknown to me ; but in the sweet 
tone, and in the accents, though prudently concealed, 
I could not doubt for a moment but that it was a 
woman. I had seen enough. I repaired to the door 
and pushed it open. At the grating of the rusty 
hinges, a slender form disappeared like a shadow be- 
hind a distant pillar. The Biscayan came up quick*- 
ly to me. 

"No apologies," said he; "you have, without 
knowing it, made yourself master of a secret which 
would have been yours sooner or later. It is better, 



148 DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY. 

then, that you know it now. Besides, I was just 
speaking of you. Is it not to you I owe one of the 
happiest moments of my life ? Have I not still need 
of a new proof of that friendship which henceforth 
will be so valuable to me ?" 

Don Jaime then, in a few words, gave me the 
particulars of a romantic attachment which had arisen 
six months before in the shady walks of the Alame- 
da; that, owing to the want of fortune on his part, 
a union could not be effected ; that all attempts at 
flight had been defeated by watchful vigilance, which 
had never been relaxed till the time when the father 
of her he loved for her beauty alone, before knowing 
of her wealth, set out to visit one of his haciendas in 
the interior of the country. To assist in the attempt 
at elopement, Don Jaime had brought two horses with 
him ; but at the third stage, at Arroyo Zarco, the poor 
young man, who had followed the carriage at a dis- 
tance, was deprived of this last resource, as the hues- 
ped would not admit him within the walls of the 
building. Thanks to our lucky meeting, he had ob- 
tained admittance, and was now quite ready for a 
start to Guanajuato. Once there, Don Jaime intend- 
ed to intrust the daughter of the haciendero to the 
care of a distant relative of his, who would conceal her 
in a convent till, the pursuit being slackened and the 
marriage concluded, he could set sail for Spain. Un- 
luckily, a new obstacle presented itself. How could 
we quit the inn without awakening the suspicions of" 
the huesped, and how hide the direction of our flight 
and keep up appearances? Don Jaime had thought 
that I might be able to accompany them, leaving my 
valet at the venta, while we accommodated ourselves 
with his horse. Donna Luzecita (the lady's name) 



THE lady's silent ELOQUENCE. 149 

could pass easily for Cecilio, and the landlord, seeing 
as many pass out as had entered in, could conceive 
no suspicion. 

The Biscayan regarded me with a look of such 
melting eloquence, that I was on the point of throw- 
ing myself, heart and soul, into this new adventure ; 
but, on reflection, I deemed it proper to refuse. Don 
Jaime sighed, and left me. He returned in a few 
minutes, accompanied by the young lady. A rebozo, 
worn in the Mexican manner, was passed round her 
head. Through the folds of her silk veil you could 
discern a bandeau of jet black hair encircling a brow 
empurpled with a modest blush, and under the arch 
of her black eyebrows two eyes modestly veiled by 
their long lashes. 

" What should I not owe you, Senor Cavalier," said 
she, in that harmonious voice whose silvery tone had 
so charmed me some minutes before, "if you would 
consent to help us in our extremity ! At any rate, a 
refusal will never change my unalterable resolution." 

I must confess that her look and simple words had 
almost brought me over to her side. I only stam- 
mered out some commonplace about duty and pru- 
dence. 

"Your presence," added the Spaniard, "can pre- 
vent one misfortune ; for I love her so much that, 
rather than see her torn from me, I would stab her to 
the heart." 

Proud and grateful for this burst of passion in her 
lover, the lady raised her eyes, which had been hither- 
to cast to the ground, and gazed steadily at the Span- 
iard with one of those sharp, piercing looks of love 
wliich her Creole impetuosity could not retain. It 
was thus she desu'ed to be loved. Then, holding out 



150 THE LADY PEEVAILS ; I CONSENT. 

to me one of those hands which God seems to have 
modeled expressly for Mexican women — "You con- 
sent, don't you ?" said she. 

Every moment was precious. Twelve o'clock had 
struck, and I could not pain her by another refusal. 
To carry our saddles and valises to the stables, and 
prepare the horses for the road, was the work of an in- 
stant. The darkness in the stables was very great, 
and it was only by the light from our cigars that we 
could distinguish our steeds. In the court-yard the 
two coachmen were sleeping near their mules. 

"Halloo ! friend," cried one of them, yawning, "are 
you for the road so early ?" 

" I have a long way to go," I replied ; " but you 
needn't stir ; the cock has not yet crown." 

The snoring of the coachmen, who had dropped 
asleep an instant afterward, was soon mixed with the 
chorus of noises that proceeded from the stable, and 
by groping about we managed to finish our business 
without any new interruptions. We arranged that 
the better of the two horses which Don Jaime had 
brought with him should be reserved for the use of the 
daughter of the haciendero. One thing only remained 
to be done — to instruct Cecilio in the part he was to 
play in our absence. I went to his bed-chamber. 
His organ of Avonder had been largely exercised during 
the night, but the surprise which now awaited him 
was still more astonishing than any of the others. 
The poor fellow was sleeping with his hands clenched, 
when I, with some difficulty, awoke him. 

" Wilt thou* listen ?" said I to him, when he was 
fully awakened. " Thou must sleep soundly till ten 
o'clock in the morning. If thou art unable to do so, 

* In Mexico it is the custom for masters to " thou'^ their valets. 



luzecita's devotiox. 151 

at least remain in thy cliamber. Reasons of the most 
important nature demand that thy presence in the 
venta he not even suspected till that hour. Thou 
must then slip unperceived out of the hacienda ; and, 
in order that thou may'st do that the more easily, I 
am going to take away thy horse. Take the road to 
Celaya, and rejoin me at the venta of the Soledad, 
where I shall wait for thee." 

"I shall execute your lordship's orders," said Ce- 
cilio, bowing sadly, and seemingly quite disconcerted 
at this new inconvenience. 

My two companions were in the saddle on my re- 
turn. Don Jaime appeared to shudder in the cold 
niglit air ; and his beautiful companion, her head con- 
cealed by her thick silk veil, and her shoulders covered 
with a manga with the lining outside, seemed com- 
pletely disguised except to a very experienced eye. 
The convulsive agitation of her bosom, however, and 
her stifled sobs, betrayed her violent emotion. I well 
understood the sentiments which agitated her, and I 
could not help casting a melancholy glance in the di- 
rection of the chamber in which the father of Donna 
Luz slept. In that trying moment, the Castilian gen- 
erosity, so inherent in Don Jaime's character, showed 
itself in a remarkable manner. 

" Luzecita," he said, in a choking voice, "you have 
not yet advanced too far to recede — it is your father 
you are leaving." 

Recalled by the voice of Don Jaime to the thought 
that was uppermost in her mind, the lady trembled, 
and the two for a time seemed alone in the world. 
Taking the hand of the one she loved, and carrying- 
it to her lips with the passionate submission of an 
Eastern slave, 



lo2 WE ,sr£Ai. uUT UF TllK HACIENDA, 

" I have no father now," she said, in a voice at once 
firm and sweet ; "lead on." 

On hearing this my last scruples vanished, and we 
set out. We traversed the cornet in silence. The 
huesped was sleeping on the ground close to the gate. 
I touched him with the point of my lance without 
speaking ; he started up with the mechanical prompt- 
ness of a man accustomed to he roused at all hours of 
the night. 

"For the road already?" on receiving the reckon- 
ing. "And this cavalier also, with his two horses?" 

" Yes," I replied ; "this cavalier, my valet, and my-, 
self, must he at the hacienda of San Francisco before 
daylight." 

"A pleasant journey," he cried, on opening the gate, 
which soon closed behind us. We at first followed 
the road to Mexico, so as to tally with the false direc- 
tion I had given to the huesped; we then turned bri- 
dle all at once in the direction of Celaya, making a 
wide detour to avoid passing near the hacienda. A 
damp, icy fog covered the plain as far as the eye could 
reach ; the night-wind tore aside the curtain of mist 
from time to time, and showed us the surrounding 
country covered with hoar-frost. A few paces distant 
appeared the watch-fire of the Biscayan: it looked 
like a star just about to expire. Our horses made 
their way rapidly through the mist, the breath that is- 
sued from their nostrils playing about their heads in 
immense volumes. Although not sharing in the fever- 
ish impatience of my two companions, I could not help 
feeling a kind of emotion when I compared the uncer- 
tain issue of the event into which they had blindly 
rushed with the thick vapors which enwrapped in 
darkness the road and the objects around. We were 



NO PUESUEES BEHIND. 153 

not long in placing a considerable distance between ns 
and the venta. We then slackened our pace ; a gray- 
ish glimmer began to light up the objects around us : 
in the east, and behind the hills, which were still en- 
veloped in mist, a few pale rays heralded the approach 
of the sun. 

" Let us stop here a minute," I said to the Biscay- 
an, " to breathe our horses. In the mean time, I shall 
alight to listen if there are any pursuers behind us." 

We had now covered a distance of almost eight 
leagues without exchanging a word, this being one of 
those cases in which a full heart places a restraint 
upon the tongue. With my ear close to the ground, 
I listened anxiously to catch the sound of the approach 
of horsemen : no noise, no echo came from the earth. 
We were in a vast desert plain. The slight agitation 
I had felt during our long gallop was succeeded by a 
soothing calm ; I seated myself on the grass, and in- 
vited my companions to do the same. This moment 
of passing security brought out a burst of sentiment 
which had been restrained during the long gallop. As 
the hoar-frost immediately disappears when the first 
beams of the sun have reddened the grassy plain, so 
anxiety fled from the hearts of the two lovers, and 
gave place to confidence and delirious exultation. 
Scarcely had the lady alighted, than, obeying an irre- 
sistible impulse of her Mexican nature, she strained in 
her arms him who would henceforth stand to her in 
place of the whole world. The faded, melancholy face 
of the Spaniard seemed all at once lighted up with an- 
imation ; but the rapture inspired by these caresses 
was too much for him ; he turned pale, staggered, and 
fell to the ground with his eyes closed. Ponna Lu25 
rent the air with her shrieks. 
G2 



154 AN EXCHANGE. — A SOUVENIll. 

"Don't be afraid," I said; "joy never kills." 

I laid liim gently upon the grass ; Donna Luz knelt 
by him, and bedewed him with tears. Don Jaime 
soon revived and came to himself, while the young 
Creole, turning about, hid her face in her hands with 
that strange mixture of modesty and passion whicli 
lent an additional charm to her beauty. 

"You must come with us no farther," said the Bis- 
cayan to me. " You have risked enough in our serv- 
ice, and I will abuse your kindness no longer ; but, 
before parting, I have another favor to ask of you : it 
is that you take my cloak in exchange for yours; it 
will aid my disguise more effectually." 

I consented to his request. 

"You will gain little by the bargain," said Don 
Jaime, with a smile ; " but you have done me a great 
service. Since you are not bound in any particular 
direction, you may perhaps come to Guanajuato. I 
shall remain a fortnight there, and you can easily find 
me out, and I shall be but too happy to express to 
you once more the gratitude which I shall feel for you 
all my life." 

The parting moment came. We assisted the lady 
to her saddle. Don Jaime then mounted. Untying 
the mandolin which hung at his saddle-bow, 

"Take this," he cried, "and keep it as a remem- 
brance of me. For a long time this instrument and 
hope were all my possessions ; now, instead of hope, 
God has given me the reality." 

The tears stood in his eyes. He shook me by the 
hand a second time. Donna Luz paid me with a 
smile more than she owed me, and the pair galloped 
away. I followed them with my eye for a long time 
involuntarily, thinking that there was much between 



WE EEACH THE VENTA OF THE SOLEDAD. 155 

the cup and the lip. The morning mist soon hid 
them from my sight. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Florencio Planillas, the Mexican Miner. 

Left alone in the midst of the desert plain of Caz- 
adero, I remained, I must confess, a considerable time 
in a state of great uncertainty. Being far distant from 
any habitation, I was debating within my own mind 
whether I should not turn bridle and regain the haci- 
enda of Arroyo Zarco ; but the sun shone so cheerily 
upon the plain, and the morning air was so refreshing, 
that my discouragement and hesitation disappeared 
like the mist upon the hills, which had now put on 
their usual bluish appearance. I continued my route. 
A gallop of barely two leagues would take me to the 
venta of the Soledad, where I had ordered Cecilio to 
await my coming. The landlord, on seeing me come 
in with a guitar slung across my shoulder, took me 
for a music-mad tourist that had come in the very nick 
of time to amuse him, and spoke of his love for music 
with the air of a man who was desirous to hear my 
performance. I refused, however, point blank, and 
hastened to take possession of the most retired room 
in the venta. Cecilio did not make his appearance 
till nightfall. He had nothing new to tell me. At 
midday, when he escaped from the hacienda, there was 
not the slightest stir. This information calmed me 
about the fugitives, and freed me from anxiety on 
their account. I resolved to pass the night in the inn. 
]My poor valet, who had traveled on foot a distance of 



156 DON TOM AS NOT YET OVERTAKEN. 

thirty miles, was hardly able to stand upright ; and, 
for my own part, I needed to husband my strength, 
that I might resume on the following day that pursuit 
which seemed to be getting interminable. 

Next morning, at an early hour, we were in the sad- 
dle and on the road to Celaya, where we expected to 
meet Don Tomas. It was a two days' journey, and 
these two days were marked with as many odd occur- 
rences as had signalized the first part of this singular 
excursion. In all the inns at which we stopped Don 
Tomas had preceded us only by a few hours. At last 
I arrived at Celaya, and alighted at the Meson de 
Guadalupe at the very moment that Cecilio was men- 
tally registering the seventy leagues we had traveled 
since we left Mexico, with this consoling reflection, 
however, that, according to the intelligence we had re- 
ceived, Ave were now approaching the end of our jour- 
ney. Unhappily, I was once more balked. At Ce- 
laya, as at Arroyo Zarco, I missed Don Tomas by 
half an hour. Don Tomas, on leaving Celaya, had 
taken the road to Irapuato. We set out for that place. 
In the solitary inn of this small market-town no one 
had seen him. They knew him, however, for the host 
told me that Don Tomas owned and inhabited a soli- 
tary house at the foot of the Cerro del Gigante (Giant 
peak). 

" Where is the Cerro del Gigante ?" I asked, not 
without an apprehension that it might be a hundred 
leagues away. 

"It is the highest peak of the range of mountains," 
replied my host, "which overhangs Guanajuato. If 
you set out from here at dawn of day, you will be 
there in the evening." 

Irapuato is ninety-two leagues from Mexico. To 



THE CUTTHROAT GULLY. 157 

reach Guanajuato I had still twenty leagues to travel. 
It occurred to me that Guanajuato was the town to 
which the Biscayan nobleman had conveyed Donna 
Luz. Besides the certainty of there meeting Don To- 
mas, I had the hope of learning the fate of a man in 
whom I already felt an interest as intense as if he had 
been an old friend. This double consideration de- 
termined me. 

"Well," said I to Cecilio, "we must go and wait 
upon Don Tomas in his own house, which he seems 
in a great hurry to reach." 

The road to Guanajuato winds through a ravine of 
interminable length called Canada de Marfil, and it 
was far on in the afternoon before we reached that city, 
whose steep streets we traversed rapidly in the direc- 
tion of the Cerro del Gigante. The road that we fol- 
lowed on leaving the town was cut with ravines and 
full of ruts. I was not long in regretting that I had 
entangled myself in such a defile as this, especially as 
night was coming on, and we were on an unknown 
road. As we advanced the scenery became wilder and 
more desolate ; the noise made by the runnels of water 
which bounded over the rocks on either side, and the 
cawing of troops of crows which hovered over head, 
were the only sounds which broke the stillness around. 

" Ah ! senor," said Cecilio, approaching me when I 
had halted for a moment to recall to my recollection 
the instructions I had received, "this gully seems a 
real cutthroat place, and I hope nothing worse will be- 
fall us than wandering all night long in this labyrinth 
of mountains, where the cold cuts into one's marrow." 

I was not insensible to the cold which began to pre- 
vail in this deep valley, and I threw over my shoul- 
ders the manga that the Biscayan had given me in ex- 



158 THE CUTTHKOAT GULLY. 

change for my cloak. I began to share in my servant's 
fears ; but I judged it better to keep my anxiety to 
myself, and continued to advance, certain besides of 
being in the right road, although it was becoming rap- 
idly darker and darker. Abrupt precipitous rocks, 
with whitened crests, rose before and on each side of 
us. Already the mountains were throwing their long 
shadows across the valleys ; the evening mist was 
mounting in light flakes from the deep bottoms in 
which the brooks purled to the mountain tops that the 
sun was touching with his departing beams ; and the 
Giant Peak, which seemed to me so near, rose always 
at the same distance, encircled with a purple halo, 
overtopping the neighboring heights with an appear- 
ance of gloomy majesty, as if placed there as the guard- 
ian of the mysterious treasures inclosed in the bow- 
els of the Sierra. 

"You know the proverb, master," continued Cecil- 
10 : " those who go to seek wool often come back 
shorn. Something tells me that we have got our- 
selves into a terrible mess. Who can this Don To- 
mas be whom every body on the road knows, but 
whom we can never catch ? Some bandit chief, I fear, 
who has his own reasons for not showing himself; and 
I think," he continued, in a low tone, "that these 
gorges are not so solitary as they seem. Mother of 
Jesus ! did you not see the gleam of a musket-barrel 
among those branches up there ?" 

I carried mj eyes involuntarily in the direction 
pointed out by Cecilio ; it was nothing but the wind 
agitating the thick branches which crowned tlie crest 
of a precipice, and I could not see far on account of 
the fog. I affected to laugh at my servant's fears, 
when I thought I heard a sound resembling the click 



NAEEOW ESCAPE OF MY LIFE. 169 

of a gun-lock. Our horses could advance but slowly, 
owing to the rocks with which the bottom of the ra- 
vine was covered. I quickened my pace, however. 
All at once a flash burst forth over our heads, the whiz 
of a ball shot past our ears, and the report of a gun 
echoed through the ravine, accompanied by a dull 
sound, as if the ball had been flattened against the 
rocks. 

"Ah! the scoundrel," cried a voice, which seemed 
to come from the top of the precipice, "I have miss- 
ed him." 

My first impulse was to close my eyes, in the ex- 
pectation of hearing another report. An instant pass- 
ed in terrible anxiety, during which the echoes rever- 
berated among the rocks. I then raised my head to 
seek for the place from which the shot had been fired, 
but the fog lay so thick on the heights that I could 
distinguish nothing. A strip torn ofl" the pennon of 
my lance, which was within two feet of my body, clear 
ly proved that I had been aimed at. 

" 'Tis lucky I escaped that shot," said I to Cecilio; 
"but come, let us climb the rocks on both sides, and 
lay hold on the scoundrel who is seemingly so sorry 
that he has missed." 

" But," cried Cecilio, who was not at all pleased 
with the task I had assigned him, " there is no indi- 
cation whatever that they aimed at you; besides, I 
won't leave you. It is the duty of a good servant to 
be always at his master's side." 

I gained the top of the rocks before him. As far 
as mj range of vision extended, I saw nothing but 
the distant hills deeply bathed in violet, a few fields 
of maize whose heavy heads swung slowly backward 
and forward, and some deep gorges in the Sierra, de- 



160 MEXICAN COOLNESS AND EFFRONTERY. 

noted by deeper tints of color. The country round 
had a sad, melancholy look in the gray of the even- 
ing that was creeping over all. It would have been 
imprudent to have turned, so I continued my march. 
In a short time I perceived in the distance a building 
of considerable size ; no smoke rose above the roof. 
Indeed, it seemed quite deserted. It had probably 
been at one time a work-shop. I was confirmed in 
this opinion by the dilapidated state of the walls, and 
the large holes in the tiling. Just when Cecilio was 
alighting to assure himself that the place contained 
no inhabitant, a horseman issued from a by-road, and 
came galloping up with a carbine in his hand. He 
stopped suddenly on seeing me, and continued to look 
at me for some seconds with an air of fear and visible 
distrust. All at once he burst into a loud roar of 
laughter. 

" You are not, then, Remigio Yasquez ?" he in- 
quired. 

" I don't know him," I replied. 

" Ah ! Senor Cavalier, pardon me ; I fancied it was 
Remigio Vasquez I was firing at." 

Again the fellow laughed loudly, but added, in a 
tone of regret, 

" Caramha ! to say that I missed at twenty paces, 
when I had covered you too ; but a sudden move- 
ment you made saved your life. Ah! but I am in- 
deed sorry." 

" Of having missed, no doubt. No more of that, 
if you please. The hour and the place seem quite 
suitable for my taking my revenge by blowing your 
brains out." 

"For what ?" cried he, slightly alarmed. "I thought 
you were my enemy ; I was deceived. I fired at, and 



HOSPITALITY OF PLANILLAS. 161 

missed you. T]ie one quite compensates for the oth- 
er ; and, for my part, I would not harm you the least 
in the world." 

The unknown appeared so convinced by the force 
of his own argument that I could not help laughing. 
I then asked if I were far from the Cerro del Gigante. 

"A good carbine could carry a ball there quite easi- 
ly ; but, from the windings of the ravine, it is a two 
hours' march from here ; and, as the night is coming 
on, and the road rather difficult to find in the dark, I 
offer your lordship a night's lodging under my roof, to 
show you that I bear no malice." 

The dilapidated appearance of the house promised 
only a very sorry shelter, but the offer seemed frankly 
enough made, and I was, besides, one of that class of 
unencumbered travelers with whom robbers only ex- 
change salutations on the road. I made no difficulty, 
therefore, in accepting the offer, and dismounted. The 
unknown led me through a vast hall, whose roof was 
much broken in many parts, and, while he was assist- 
ing Cecilio to unsaddle the horses, I could see by the 
tools lying about the place that I was in one of those 
metallurgic work-shops {haciendas de heneficio) where 
the silver extracted from the mines receives its last 
treatment. My host was not long in returning; he 
lighted a miner's torch, and then told me to consider 
myself at home. Misery seemed to have taken up its 
abode in this ruined building, and I could not help 
remarking to myself that there seemed little likeli- 
hood of getting here even the slightest refreshment. 
I seated myself opposite to my host, and tried to listen 
patiently to the explanations he was giving me about 
the uses of various instruments which I had never 
seen before ; but as time passed, and there seemed 



1(32 MY ENTERTAINER. 

to be no likelihood of any thing being placed on tlie 
table, I said frankly, 

" I am very hungry." 

" So am I," he returned, gravely, without stirring. 

I feared I had not been explicit enough. 

"At what time do you ordinarily sup here? For 
my part, I can sup at any hour of the evening when I 
am as hungry as I am at present." 

" Any hour is convenient enough for me ; but to- 
day I have had no supper." 

This reply astonished me. Luckily, Cecilio had 
supplied himself with some yards of dried meat.* I 
was able then, our respective positions being reversed, 
to offer a frugal repast to the singular amphitryon 
with whom chance had brought me acquainted, and 
he needed no pressing to make him accept it. 

"It appears to me," I said, after we had finished, 
"that there is a certain person called Remigio Vas- 
quez in the world who is far from being a friend of 
yours ; what ill has he done you ?" 

" None, till a little ago ; and I fired at him (that 
is, at you) to-day purely from precaution, and to pre- 
vent him from ruining me." 

Florencio Planillas, that was my host's name, then 
entered into long details about his own affairs. He 
was one of those obstinate miners who have all their 
lives struggled to grasp after merely visionary illu- 
sions, and who, like the unlucky gambler, fancy them- 
selves constantly on the point of becoming possess- 
ors of millions without ever being able to learn those 
rude lessons of experience which their unhappy obsti- 
nacy prevents them from acquiring. His history was 

* In some parts of Mexico butcher-meat is cut into strips, dried in 
the sun, and sold by measure, like ribbons or cloth. 



HE TELLS HIS HISTORY. 163 

that of many others. Once proprietor of a rich silver 
mine, then of a flourishing hacienda de benejicio, he 
had seen the thread of silver fail in the borrasca,^ and 
the want of capital had forced him to suspend his 
metallurgic operations. According to Mexican cus- 
tom, a mine once abandoned becomes the property of 
the person who proclaims the failure of the former pro- 
prietor. This proclamation was a perpetual source of 
annoyance to Florencio Planillas both day and night. 
His restless, perturbed spirit saw a rival in every one, 
ready to deprive him of his property, and he had been 
told that an individual named Eemigio Vasquez had 
arrived the night before at Guanajuato, with the avow- 
ed intention of profiting by the suspension of his works, 
and claiming them as his own. It would prove a 
rough blow to Florencio to be deprived of a property 
which had enriched him before, and very probably 
might do so again. The Mexicans are very generally 
in the habit of deciding such cases by the knife. He 
had therefore vowed the death of Eemigio Vasquez. 
" I never saw him," he added, on finishing his recital ; 
*' but his appearance has been so exactly described to 
me that he can not escape. I spent this whole day 
at Guanajuato trying to discover him, but in vain, and 
on my return, deceived by the darkness, by a certain 
vague resemblance you bore to him, and, above all, by 
the cloak you wore, I thought you were the person 
that had come to dispossess me of my rights, and it 
was only on closer inspection that I discovered my 
error. I do not say, however, that I am sorry I miss- 
ed you ; but after this I'll use the knife. El cuchillo 
no suena ni truena (the knife does its work silently), 
as my friend Tomas Verduzco says." 
* An appellation given to a mine when it has become unprofitable. 



164 DON TOMAS NO EGOIST. 

" Verdugo, you mean," said I, interrupting him. 

" Do you know him ?" cried Florencio, with a laugh. 
" What a capital joke ! But you don't transact busi- 
ness with him, I think." 

" What joke are you referring to ?" 

'•'- Horribre ! don't you know that his true name is 
Verduzco, and that he is called Verdugo* (execution- 
er) because he is obliged sometimes to see justice done 
to himself in what he calls his affairs of conscience ?" 

This peculiarity in the character of the man on 
whose heels I had been treading so closely was not 
the most agreeable thing in the world, I must confess ; 
but I wished to get some more information about him, 
and accordingly inquired how long it had taken Don 
Tomas to acquire this formidable surname. 

"On my word," replied Florencio, "that's one of 
those matters of which one does not like to keep a too 
exact account — probably he does not even know him- 
self — but perhaps you will form a bad opinion of Don 
Tomas from what I have told you. The Sehor Ver- 
duzco is no egoist ; his neighbor may have the use 
of his knife at a time ; and, provided you give him 
solid reasons (with a strong emphasis on solid), he is 
always ready to render one a service." 

"The devil he is!" I cried. "Don Tomas must 
be a most inestimable character, and I am quite im- 
patient to make his acquaintance." 

In spite of this gasconade, the intense desire that 
I had shown to see Don Tomas was dispelled as if by 
magic ; but, having gone too far to recede, I determ- 
ined to make my way, as I had intended, to the Cerro 
del Gigante. The night passed without any incident 
occurring except that I was forced to lend my host a 
* A sharp poniard. 



WE SET OUT FOE THE CEERO. 165 

part of mj manga to stop up a hole in the roof that 
admitted the cold, and I took leave of him in the morn- 
ing with many thanks for his munificent hospitality, 
which had been shown by his appropriating to him- 
self three parts of my supper and the half of my cloak. 
Moreover, not many hours before he had tried to shoot 
me. 

I mounted, and proceeded in the direction of the 
Cerro del Gigante. Armed with my lance, whose torn 
pennon bore witness to the danger I had run, escorted 
by Cecilio, and having the guitar of the Biscayan no- 
bleman thumping on my back, I bore no uncertain re- 
semblance to the wandering knight of La Mancha in 
search of adventures, attended by his trusty squire. 
This mission of mine was one of the most delicate 
kind, for now I had no doubt whatever but that we 
were on the traces of a Mexican bravo, and I had been 
following him for the last six days. I was quite con- 
vinced, however, that I had done nothing to get my- 
self involved with Don Tomas. 

The bravi of Mexico, like their compatriots in oth- 
er countries where this formidable profession is exer- 
cised, begin at first by putting those to death to whom 
they become indebted at the gaming-table. It was, 
then, a point of the very greatest importance to estab- 
lish my identity fully in the eyes of a fellow of this 
stamp, as I might probably, if this were not done, get 
a stab intended for some other person. This consid- 
eration deciding me above all, I repaired to the Cerro 
del Gigante, and in a short time arrived at a very pret- 
ty house at the foot of the mountain. A purling brook, 
shaded with sycamores, ran close by the door. My 
host of the preceding night had described the place to 
me too minutely to allow of my missing it. I ad- 



166 A JOYFUL MEETINa. 

dressed myself to a groom, who was rubbing down a 
beautiful horse at the gate, by inquiring if the Cavalier 
Yerduzco could be seen at present. 

"No, seiior," replied the man. "He had scarcely 
arrived here last night ere he was sent on business of 
the utmost importance to Guanajuato, which he can 
scarcely finish in less than three days ; and when he 
comes home, he may require to depart again imme- 
diately." 

"Where is he going next?" I asked. 

" I don't know," said the man, dryly. I made no 
more inquiries, wheeled my horse round, and rode off. 



CHAPTER V. 

Assassination of the young Spanish Noble. 

On returning to the town, I inquired which of the 
three or four hotels in Guanajuata was the cheapest, 
convinced that it was only in one of that description 
that the Biscayan was to be found. I was right in 
my conjecture, for the first person I met on alighting 
in the court-yard of the posada was Don Jaime de Vil- 
lalobos. He was just going out when I presented my- 
self suddenly before him, and I had scarcely dismount- 
ed ere he pressed me in his. arms, according to the 
manner of his country. For my part, I listened with 
interest to his adventures after our separation. He 
told me that he had arrived at Guanajuato almost four 
days before me, and that his utmost wishes had been 
realized. A priest, who had been gained over by the 
relative of Donna Luz, had married them without dif- 
ficulty, and since that time his young wife had been 



THE Spaniard's peesentiments. 167 

hidden in a convent, where he saw her every day, until 
he could take such steps as would allow them to leave 
Mexico. One circumstance only caused him a little 
alarm : he believed that he met in the streets, the night 
before, one of the servants who was in the train of his 
wife's father at the venta of Arroyo Zarco. 

" But as I fancy that I see every where the appear- 
ance of spies and robbers," he said, gayly, "it is more 
than probable that I am deceived, and that they are 
seeking me at a greater distance than where I really 
am. And you," added he, " have you laid your hand 
on Don Tomas Verdugo yet ?" 

" No ; and, from all I have learned about him, I am 
more anxious to avoid him now than I was to meet 
him before." And I recounted my adventure in the 
ravine with Florencio Planillas. "Your cloak," I 
added, " served me a bad turn, for it is similar to one 
that the informer against Florencio wears, one Remi- 
gio Vasquez." 

At the name Don Jaime turned pale, and cried, 

"What! was it Remigio Vasquez that the scoundrel 
had in mind to shoot? and do they accuse him of a 
crime which he never contemplated ? Ah ! my pre- 
sentiments have not deceived me." 

" Why ?" 

" Remigio Vasquez is the name I bear here." 

This unexpected revelation caused me to shudder. 
Perhaps, even now, that villain, whose knife was at 
every one's service, might have been sent upon the 
Biscayan's track to satisfy the vengeance of the in- 
jured father. I told him what my opinion was upon 
the matter, and insisted upon his staying within doors 
for a few days ; but the Spanish nobleman had now 
recovered all his former courage. 



168 A MEXICAN PULQUEKIA. 

" No," he said, "Luzecita waits me at the convent. 
Not to go to see her would plunge her into the deep- 
est grief. No one can escape their destiny." 

We talked together a short time longer. As he in- 
sensibly lapsed into a gloomy mood, I tried to jest 
with him upon our actual position. 

"As for me," I said, "I shall be more prudent than 
you. I am going to bury myself in the deepest mine 
I can find, and it will be a terrible thing if this hor- 
rid Verdugo meets me eighteen hundred feet below 
ground." 

We separated, Don Jaime to the convent, and I to 
visit one of the most easily accessible mines in the 
neighborhood. As I was crossing the square on my 
way to the outskirts of the town, I fancied I distin- 
guished the well-known face of Florencio Planillas at 
the door of a pulqueria. Delighted at having this op- 
portunity of undeceiving him as to the intention of 
Remigio Vasquez, or rather Don Jaime, I went up to 
the door, in spite of the repugnance I have for these 
Mexican cabarets, where both men and women sit 
drinking that abominable liquor prepared from fer- 
mented 2>'ulque.* Whether Florencio had seen, and 
wished to avoid me, I know not ; at any rate, he dis- 
appeared into the shop. The life of Don Jaime doubt- 
less depended on the interview I was going to have 
with Florencio. I stepped over some drunkards, quite 
intoxicated, who were lying, clothed in rags, across the 
doorway, and entered the pulqueria. What a fantas- 
tical appearance met my eye! The walls were cov- 
ered with frescoes of the most incredible nature, rep- 
resenting ancient grotesque personages, pictures of 

* The sap of the aloe, which is first as sweet as honey, but by fer- 
mentation becomes stinking, sour, and heady 



THE OBFUSCATED DKUNKAKD. 169 

drunken brawls, of murder, of love, of giants, dwarfs, 
and cavaliers, accompanied with the most startling de- 
vices, and all surmounted with this clinching inscrip- 
tion : {Hoy sejpaga, manana sefid) — Pay now^ credit 
afterward. Large open vats, filled with a milky liq- 
uor, from which exhaled a horrible smell, were placed 
all round the room, and the publican was busily en- 
gaged ladling it out with a calabash for his customers, 
among whom I soon recognized Florencio. 

"Ah! Senor Cavalier," cried he, advancing with 
the glass in his hand, " allow me to offer you — " 

" No, I am not thirsty ; but I have some good news 
for you." 

I tried then to tell him that he had been falsely in- 
formed when he had been told that the person who 
was trying to dispossess him of his mine was Remigio 
Vasquez. It was a long time before I could make 
the obfuscated drunkard understand the purport of 
my visit, and undeceive him with regard to the Bis- 
cayan. 

"You see that I am delighted," cried he, when he 
had at last made out the meaning of my words. 

" For poor Remigio's sake ?" I said. 

"No, for jnj own sake. I don't fear his informa- 
tion," he replied, with a drunken frankness ; "but if 
that change my intentions regarding him, Remigio 
Vasquez's affair is not a bit improved. I mean to say 
— (and, swallowing what remained in his glass, he 
seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts) — I mean 
that it is capital for — ^for — " 

"For whom?" I exclaimed, losing all patience. 

" Ah ! caramba, for our intimate friend, the respect- 
able Don Tomas Verdugo, as your lordship styles 
him." 

H 



170 TAKEN IN BY THE DRUNKARD. 

A^nd the miner was not slow in telling rae that the 
bravo would receive a considerable sum from the in- 
jured father, as he had been told, to avenge the insult 
offered to his outraged family. 

" And where is Don Tomas ?" I inquired of Flore n- 
cio. " I am sure that I can undeceive him as well as 
yourself." 

"I think I know where he is at present," replied 
Planillas. 

" Well, why do you wait here? Let us set out im- 
mediately in search of him." 

"I would like well enough to be off; but, you see, 
I can't quit this place without paying my score, and I 
have not a single tlaco about me." 

"That needn't detain you. Call the publican." 

" Truly," said Florencio, with much effrontery, 
" yesterday evening you partook of my hospitality ; 
if you clear my expenses to-day, we shall be quits." 

The publican immediately appeared, and I inquired 
how much Florencio owed him. The miner tipped 
him the wink, and the other immediately said, " Two 
piastres." This was far too much, and the drunken 
scoundrel would very likely gain a piastre and a half 
by it ; but time was precious. I yielded, and we 
hastened in pursuit of Don Tomas. Unluckily, the 
tottering legs of my companion but ill seconded my 
eflfbrts, and I was obliged to proceed very slowly. In 
this manner we traversed a considerable part of the 
town. Every now and then the drunken rascal stop- 
ped before a house, saying he was within, but he was 
invariably mistaken. We at last stood before a dark, 
steep, wet alley, at the end of which you saw the dusky 
light which issued from a garden. 

"Are you sure you are right this time?" I asked 



FLOKENCIO LEAVES ME. 171 

anxiously of Florencio ; "for time is passing, and poor 
Vasquez is in danger of his life." 

" He is there, assuredly," stammered my compan- 
ion; "for I could never forgive myself if I had ar- 
rived too late, and any misfortune (here his eyes be- 
came bathed in maudlin tears) were to happen to Don 
Tomas. Such a worthy man as he is, too !" 

After this burst of sensibility, which failed signally 
in its object, Florencio plunged into the lane, and I re- 
mained alone, for I thought that we could no longer 
proceed together. I walked about in the street, a prey 
to anxiety easy to comprehend, counting the minutes, 
which seemed centuries, and expecting every moment 
to see this Don Tomas, who had not been out of my 
thoughts for so many days, appear before me ; but 
time passed, and he did not make his appearance. An 
hour was spent in this manner, and at last I decided 
on going to the house myself. I walked through the 
dark alley, entered the garden at the other end, and 
the first thing I saw was a man stretched on the 
ground. This was the unhappy Florencio, who was 
snoring as if he would burst his nostrils, and had for- 
gotten every thing in his drunkenness. I retraced my 
steps, resolving to trust to myself only ; but it was a 
long time before I found myself in a part of the town 
I knew. I got to my hotel with some difficulty. Ce- 
cilio met me at the gate. 

"Ah!" cried he, on seeing me, ''what a dreadful 
misfortune has happened! The young cavalier that 
you met this morning had a quarrel fixed on him by 
a passenger in the street, and they have carried him 
to his own room. He is dead, there's no doubt of it." 

Such an occurrence is so common in Mexico that 
no unusual stir was visible in the hotel as I mounted 



172 DEATH OF THE SPANISH NOBLE. 

the stairs to go to Don Jaime's room. The poor 
young man, uncared for, untended, appeared to be 
sleeping the most tranquil sleep of all, upon a bench 
of stone, with a bloody sheet thrown over him. The 
fresh air which struck his face as I lifted the cloth 
caused him to open his eyes, over which the glaze of 
death was already stealing. 

" I know who you are," he said ; "it was you who 
succored me when I was in want, and you will remain 
by me till the last, I am sure. Thank you." 

The Biscayan gave me his clay-cold hand. 

" My hand is burning hot, is it not ? A few min- 
utes ago she pressed it between both of hers. Good 
God ! what will she say when she never sees me 
again ?" 

"Never fear," I replied. "Tell me where I can 
see Donna Luz." 

The Biscayan whispered her address into my ear. 

"Now," replied he, "it is useless. My hours are 
numbered ; she will come too late ! When I am gone, 
don't tell her that she was the cause of my death. In- 
form her only that my last thought was of her." 

Some rambling, unconnected words now escaped 
from the poor Spaniard — his mother's name, his coun- 
try's, and his dear wife's, for whom he had paid the 
penalty of his life. While the exterior world was 
gradually fading from his eyes, the sweet and holy im- 
pressions of childhood, the first imprinted on the heart 
of man, and the last to leave it, still threw a few bright 
beams athwart the thickening darkness of his thoughts. 
iUl at once, turning himself to me, he exclaimed, in a 
clear, distinct voice, 

" You will go and see my mother, won't you ? Be 
it a year after this, or even ten. Say this to console 



A MEXICAN ALCALDE. 173 

her, that I died worth millions, but not that I breath- 
ed my last on such a bed as this." 

I bowed in token of assent, and Don Jaime employ- 
ed the little strength that was left him in telling me 
where to find his house, near Vergara, in Biscay. I 
promised to fulfill this last request. A vague, mean- 
ingless smile now played upon the dying man's lips, 
that moved only in a prayer he put up in which his 
mother's name was mentioned. These were his last 
words. I wiped away the foam that covered his lips 
with a corner of his cloak, and closed the eyes, which 
were wide open and staring. At this moment some- 
body touched me on the shoulder. I turned about. 
A man whose entrance I had not noticed stood behind 
me. By his staff I saw he was an alcalde. 

"Well, Senor Cavalier," said he, "you would give 
something, I know, to have satisfaction for the death 
of this young man. I am convinced you would ; be 
calm — the eye of justice sees it all." 

" When it is too late," I said, in a low tone. 

"Is he a friend — a relation — a brother perhaps ?" 
asked the alcalde. 

I knew Mexican law too well to allow myself to be 
taken in by this appearance of compassion and inter- 
est, and said nothing. 

" Well, I am waiting for your declaration," pursued 
he, with an engaging air. 

" My declaration, Senor Alcalde, is this" (and I in- 
wardly asked pardon of the corpse lying before me for 
the lie I was about to utter) : "I declare that I don't 
know, nor ever have known, this young man."* 

* By professing relationship, or even acquaintance, with one who 
has fallen by assassination, you render yourself, in Mexico, bound to 
defray the expenses of justice. 



174 BISCAY DURINa THE CARLIST TROUBLES. 

The disappointed alcalde was not long in leaving 
the room. 

"Ah! Seiior Cavalier," said the huesped, who had 
witnessed the whole scene, "you are a foreigner, it is 
true, but you did not come into the country yester- 
day." 

I pretended not to comprehend the compliment he 
had paid me, and threw a last glance at the poor Bis- 
cayan. His face wore that aspect of serenity and 
peace which often appears on men who have died a 
violent death. A quiet smile played upon his lips. 
Though only commenced a few days before, the short 
connection I had had with Don Jaime was now closed. 
As regards the mysterious link which bound me to 
Don Tomas, that was not broken for some time after- 
ward. 

A year had passed since the death of the Biscayan. 
I had quitted Mexico. Besides the promise I had 
given Don Jaime, a less romantic motive, one quite 
personal, led me into Spain. The embers of the civil 
war were then fast dying out. The diligences which 
plied between Bayonne and Madrid, and the towns be- 
tween those cities, had stopped running in consequence 
of the Carlist bands which infested the Basque front- 
ier. I reached Bilboa, and it was only at great ex- 
pense that I could procure a pair of horses and a 
guide. This man, who was to leave me at Vergara, 
from whence I could reach St. Sebastian, had himself 
served in the Carlist ranks. From Bilboa to Vergara 
is almost thirty miles. Throughout this wide extent 
of country, the people in the villages, fearing invasion, 
had emigrated in bands, and the road, dangerous even 
at its best, would have appeared very long without the 
stories of my guide. We arrived at Vergara at night- 



THE CASTLE UF VILLALOBOS. 175 

fall ; the townsmen were fast deserting it. A Carlist 
band had announced its arrival. Mj guide could go 
no farther, his pass not permitting him to leave the 
town. A league farther on the horses would be seized 
and himself arrested. 

" I must leave you," he said, " but I am very sorry 
for it. I know my old comrades well ; and may the 
holy Virgin keep you from falling into their hands." 

"My nationality protects me," I exclaimed; "I 
fear neither Carlist nor Christino." 

"Your being a Frenchman will not avail you, for — 
for — for — " The good man, hesitating for a while, 
added, "For you will probably be hung offhand." . 

This did not startle me much ; I knew, if my life 
were in peril, I should find a secure retreat in the 
house of the mother of poor Don Jaime, who had once 
been a Carlist officer. The mountaineer, who could 
not account for my coolness, shook me by the hand 
and said, 

" You are a brave fellow, by heavens ! and I hope 
they will shoot rather than hang you." 

The ex-Carlist quitted me. I left my valise at an 
inn, and, after learning the direction of the castle of 
Tronera, a place which every body seemed to know, 
set out on foot. It was about three quarters of a mile 
from the town. The castle of Villalobos, as I expect- 
ed, was a gloomy enough place, and the wind was 
whistling in the angles of the crumbling turrets witli 
a noise which sounded to me like the drums of a Car- 
list band. Flocks of swallows were darting in and 
out of some apertures in the loose tiles on the roof. 
The shutters were all closed ; some scaffolding, how- 
ever, raised at different parts of the building, showed 
that repairs had been begun, but had been interi'upted. 



176 MOTHER AND SON BOTH DEAD. 

The castle seemed deserted. I knocked at the door. 
Some seconds elapsed, and a woman, clad in black, ap- 
peared. I desired her to announce to her mistress 
that a stranger had arrived from America, and was the 
bearer of some important news. 

"Alas!" replied the woman, "the poor lady died 
six months ago, and I am looking for her son every 
day." 

"He is dead too!" I exclaimed. 

I then learned that, some time before my arrival, 
the mother of Don Jaime had been presented with a 
considerable sum of money. As no letter had accom- 
panied the remittance, she concluded that the unknown 
benefactor must have been her son. This sudden 
change in her fortune had a fatal effect upon her. 
When on her death-bed, she had ordered the money 
to be laid out in rendering the castle worthy of the 
residence of its young master, and had died thanking 
God that he had allowed a gleam of prosperity to shine 
at last upon the old race of Villalobos. 

I had fulfilled my promise, and did not remain long 
at the chateau. It is needless to add that, contrary 
to the warning of my guide, I finished my excursion 
without meeting even the shadow of a Carlist band or 
Christino detachment. 



^l)t Mxntxs of lianas. 



CHAPTER I. 

The Hand upon the Wall.— Desiderio Fuentes, the lucky Miner.— 
Don Tomas Verduzco. 

Hardly a century ago, Guanajuato was a town of 
very little importance. Before the sudden change in 
its fortune, which resulted from the rich yield of silver 
in the Valenciana and Rayas mines, the mining in- 
dustry of Mexico had concentrated its activity in the 
works of Tasco, Pachuca, and Zacatecas. The title of 
ciudad (city) had been borne by Zacatecas since 1588, 
while Guanajuato, though founded in 1554, did not 
attain that rank till seventy-eight years later, in 1741. 
It was not known that the mountains inclosing it on 
all sides, and on the slope of which it was built, held 
within their stony bosom the Yeta Madre (Mother 
Vein), the richest lode of silver in the world. The 
situation of Guanajuato is, besides, doubly advanta- 
geous. The city is situated at once in the richest 
mining district in Mexico, and in the best cultivated 
part of the fertile plains of the Bajio.* It is thus the 
inhabitants call that large extent of country, about 
eighty leagues in circumference, which is bounded to- 
ward the side of Guanajuato by the Cordillera. 

Alternately parched and inundated, the Bajio pre- 

* Literally, bottom of a valley. 

H2 



178 THE BAJIO. 

sents at all seasons an aspect singularly picturesque. 
During the rainy season, the winter of those favored 
climes, the skj, which loses its hlue without losing its 
softness, floods the plains with fertilizing torrents. For 
several hours a day the Bajio is a vast lake, studded 
with tufts of verdure, with blue hills, with groups of 
white houses and enameled cupolas. On this sheet 
of water the green summits of the trees alone reveal 
to the traveler the capricious meanderings of the inun- 
dated road. Soon, however, the thirsty soil has im- 
bibed the moisture through the innumerable cracks 
that eight months' drought has left in its surface. A 
layer of slime, deposited by the heavy rains and the 
torrents from the Cordillera, has enriched the impover- 
ished earth. The heavens are clear and cloudless as 
before. The springs, freed from the crust which ob- 
structed them, gush out more abundantly from the foot 
of the ahueJiuetl* The Peruvian-tree, the gum-tree, 
the golden-flowered huisache, amid whose blossoms 
the scarlet-plumed parrots scream, shade and perfume 
the now consolidated roads. The songs of muleteers 
and the bells of mules resound in the blue distance, 
mingled with the shrill creaking of cart-wheels. It is 
the time when the Indian laborer returns to his toils. 
Like the shepherd in the Georgics, with his leathern 
buskins, his short tunic, and bare legs, he lazily goads 
the oxen at the plow. And such is the fertility of this 
soil, that splendid crops cover the ground which the 
plow has scarcely furrowed. Still, it is not in the 
rich plain alone that nature has been most indulgent 
to the happy dwellers in the Bajio. Over the fertile 

* The name of a species of cedar, whose presence almost always in- 
dicates the vicinity of a hidden spring. In Indian, ahuehuetl means 
lord of the v/atcrs 



THE INDIAN HUSBANDMAN. THE MINER, 17U 

valleys in the vicinity of Guanajuato, the Cordillera 
i"ears its metalliferous crest, whose sides are veined 
with lodes of gold and silver, and which delivers to the 
mattock of the miner the immense treasures of the 
Veta Madre.* The striking contrast that is visible be- 
tween the laborer and the miner is nowhere so strongly 
apparent as in this part of the Bajio. Humble and 
submissive, the Indian husbandman is at every one's 
mercy. The miner, haughty and independent, takes 
a higher rank ; and this claim is justified, we must 
admit, by the importance of the duty he performs. 
Obliged to submit to labor which yields him only lim- 
ited results, the husbandman finishes his work in si- 
lence, while the pickaxe of the miner resounds, so to 
speak, to the end of the world, and is constantly add- 
ing, at every stroke, to the riches of mankind. Pros- 
perity is not long in coming to the indefatigable miner. 
The slopes of the hills, the ravines, and the summits 
of the mountains swarm with a dense population, 
among whom the lucky finders of a new lode scatter 
their hard-earned money with thoughtless liberality, 
and squander in one day the earnings of six months. 
From the French miner Laborde, who lavished thou- 
sands upon Cathedrals, down to the meanest peon, the 
history of this bold workman has been always the 
same. Fortune is the only god he worships. He 
goes to his dangerous occupation as if specially sent 
thither by Divine Providence ; and this proud thought 
is favored by the laws of the country, old privileges 
according the title of nobility to the worker in the 

* The Veta Madre, wrought by the four mining companies of Va- 
lenciana, Cata, Mellado, and Rayas, was discovered by the French 
miner Laborde, and has yielded, between the years 1829 and 1R37, 
ore to the value of almost six million two hundred and fifty thousand 
pounds sterlinij. 



180 CHARACTER OF THE MINER. 

mines. Even at this day he can not be dispossessed 
by his creditors of his mine, if he can afford to work 
it. It appears that there is a tendency to respect the 
descendants of a privileged race. Besides a knowledge 
of metals to guide him in his search, the miner must 
be endowed with a number of rare qualities ; from 
that vigorous strength indispensable to one who has 
to raise heavy burdens, and support all day, on scanty 
wages, the enervating fatigue of under-ground work, 
down to activity and pliancy of limb, united with un- 
daunted resolution and coolness. These qualities, it 
must be owned, are never found in the same man with- 
out corresponding defects. A capricious and undis- 
ciplined being, the miner only employs all his tact and 
energy if interested in the success of his enterprise. 
Sometimes, after toiling for a month, during which he 
has hardly earned enough to live upon — in a week, or 
even in a day, he recompenses himself for his long pri- 
vations. The miner then thanks Dame Fortune. He 
scatters his gold with a lavish hand, and returns to 
his work only after all his gains are exhausted. At 
times he enriches himself by secretly pilfering the ore 
which really belongs to the proprietor of the mine, and 
the miners are but too expert at this species of theft. 
It was in the midst of a: population like this that I 
found myself at Guanajuato, after the dangerous and 
useless search recorded in the preceding chapters. I 
did not wish to let this opportunity escape me of ob- 
serving upon this theatre of action a class of men, of 
whom the gainhusinos, or gold-seekers of the Sonora, 
give one only an imperfect idea. After spending a 
day in repose, which the many painful events I had 
encountered rendered necessary, I went out next morn- 
ing to visit the mines in the neighborhood of Guana- 



THE HAND UPON THE WALL. 181 

juato. While crossing the great square, and keeping 
myself on my guard, my attention was arrested by an 
unusual object. Nailed against the wall, and under a 
small pent-house, was a human hand cut off by the 
wrist. I stopped my horse to assure myself that it 
was not a plaster cast. A moment's examination was 
sufficient to convince me that it was indeed a human 
hand, once strong and muscular, but now blanched and 
withered by the wind, the sun, and the rain. Under 
the pent-house some half-burned candles told that pi- 
ous souls had been touched by this strange exhibition, 
which seemed destined to perpetuate the remembrance 
of some bloody deed. After seeking in vain upon the 
wall an explanatory inscription, I continued my jour- 
ney ; but, during my short stay, a horseman had ap- 
proached, and seemed determined to keep close by me. 
At any other time I would have accepted with a bad 
grace the company of the unknown, but I had come 
out, you must remember, in quest of a guide. I stop- 
ped my horse, and put some questions to him. The 
stranger bowed courteously. 

" You are a stranger, Senor Cavalier," said he, with 
a smile. 

" How do you know that ?" I replied, a little aston- 
ished at his abrupt way of beginning a conversation. 

"The curious way in which you gazed upon that 
withered hand sufficiently convinced me that you have 
not been long in the town, and had not much time to 
lose. I must say that, for me, who am looking out 
for a companion, our meeting is a lucky one." 

I was not quite sure if I ought to accept with much 
cordiality the companionship so familiarly thrust upon 
me. He seemed to observe my hesitation, and ex- 
claimed, with a certain degree of haughtiness, "You 



182 DESIDERIO BECOMES Ml' aUlDE. 

do not know me, and I am unwilling that you should 
for a moment suppose that you have got to do with 
some of those poor devils who are always ready to of- 
fer their services to the first stranger they meet. My 
name is Desiderio Fuentes. I am a miner ; and, in 
the profession I exercise, there are some days on which 
fortune is unkind, and others on Avhich you amass so 
much money that you do not know how to get rid of 
it. I am in the latter condition at present ; and my 
invariable custom, on an occasion of this kind, is to 
, procure some jolly companion who can share in my 
pleasures. If I can't get one, I take up with the first 
cavalier of good appearance I meet, and I confess that 
I have never had occasion yet to Iblame Fortune for 
the comrade she sent me." 

This frank declaration reassured me completely. I 
told Desiderio, however, that I could not accept of his 
cordial offer. I had come to visit the silver mines in 
the immediate vicinity of Guanajuato, and was unwill- 
ing to waste in his company the time that I intended 
to devote to such a purpose, supposing always that he 
would not serve me as a guide. Desiderio preferred 
doing this rather than relinquish my society, being but 
too happy to escape from his own thoughts, were it only 
for a few hours. This bargain made, we spurred our 
horses, and a few minutes afterward got clear of the 
town. 

On the road my guide informed me that he had 
made a lucky hit the night before, and that he could 
take his J^ar niente for several days to come from the 
proceeds oi a. partido* Pie added that it would be a 

* The miners are said to be in partido when a share of the proceeds 
is given them as wages. In this case the employers furnish them with 
tools, gunpowder, and candles. 



I EESOLVE TO VISIT THE RAYAS MINE. 188 

delightful recreation for him to visit the mines in the 
neighborhood as an amateur, and he desired me to 
choose the one I had a mind to visit, premising only 
that he would rather not go to the Valenciana, as he 
happened to have a quarrel with one of the adminis- 
trators. He wished to keep away from the Mellado, 
because he owed some money to one of the workmen 
there ; and as for the Cata, certain misunderstandings 
of recent date caused him to avoid it with the greatest 
care. In spite of the apparent liberty of choice he had 
granted me, I saw no other way of accomplishing my 
object but by going to inspect the Rayas — the only 
one open to me. The precautions which Desiderio 
Fuentes was forced to take did not say much in his 
favor. My new friend was evidently very quarrelsome. 
He had certainly no love for paying his debts, and in 
his misunderstandings (desavencias) his knife had 
doubtless played no unimportant part. I began to 
entertain but a very indifferent opinion of my com- 
panion. One expression especially that escaped the 
miner caused me to reflect. 

"My first impulse is always very good," he said, 
"but I own my second is detestable." 

We had now come to the extremity of a ravine 
whose precipitous sides had till now obstructed the 
view. A beautifully level plain lay stretched before 
us. Long strings of mules, laden with ore, were slow- 
ly making their way to one of those metallurgic estab- 
lishments known in Mexico as a hacienda de platas. 
High chimney-stacks, from which volumes of smoke 
and leaden vapors rolled, now appeared ; the stone pa- 
tros also, on which the fluid metal is poured a day be- 
fore its formation into ingots. The noise of the ham- 
mer pounding the argentiferous rock, the clattering of 



184 THE DEAD MULE. — PLANILLAS AGAIN. 

the mules' hoofs, and the cracking of whips, were min- 
gled with the hoarser sound of the falling water that 
moved the raachinerj. I had stopped my horse to 
gaze on this animated scene, but my attention was 
soon attracted elsewhere. A few paces distant, but 
half hidden from us by a hollow in the road, I espied 
two men dragging along with ropes the carcass of a 
mule. Having arrived at a place where Desiderio and 
I could alone see them, one of them stooped over the 
dead mule, and seemed to examine it curiously, cast- 
ing at the same time a suspicious glance around. The 
moment he caught sight of us, he flopped down on the 
carcass that he had been dragging a minute before, 
while his companion immediately disappeared in a 
dense thicket of low trees and brushwood. 

" Well, I thought I was right," said Fuentes. " It 
is my friend Planillas ; but what the devil is he doing 
there ?" 

At the name of Planillas I shuddered involuntarily, 
and, preceded by Fuentes, made my way directly to 
the place where the man was seated on the mule. I 
hoped to obtain some information from the friend of 
Don Tomas Verduzco as to the part the bravo had 
played in the murder of my friend Don Jaime. Pla- 
nillas, his elbows on his knees, and his head on his 
hands, appeared overwhelmed by violent grief. The 
noise of our approach drew him at last from his ab- 
straction, and he looked up at us, but with an expres- 
sion of uneasiness rather than of sorrow. 

"Ah! seiiores," cried he, "in me you behold the 
most miserable man in all New Spain." 

"You are doubtless thinking," I replied, "of the 
young cavalier whom Don Tomas assassinated two 
days ago, and whose blood is on your head, since you 



A QUEEE SEAT. — ^THE MELLADO MINERS. 185 

might have saved his life by stopping the, hand of 
your friend — of that Don Tomas who had been paid 
to kill him, you told me." 

" Did I say that ?" cried Florencio ; " then, by the 
life of my mother, I lied. I am a terrible liar when 
in drink ; and you know, Seiior Cavalier, I had drunk 
a great deal that day." 

Florencio paused, visibly embarrassed. Fuentes 
thereupon asked him why he was in such a state of 
grief when we came up, and why he persisted in tak- 
ing the carcass of a mule for a seat. 

"This mule is the cause of my sorrow," replied 
Planillas. "Although I was tenderly attached to her, 
I had sold her in my misery to the hacienda de platas 
you see in the valley below. I got employment in the 
work-shops to be near her ; but, alas ! the poor beast 
died this morning, and I have dragged her to this 
lonely place in order to mourn over her undisturbed." 

Planillas again plunged his head between his hands 
with the air of a man who will not be consoled ; then, 
doubtless, to turn the conversation, "Ah! Senor Cav- 
alier," he said, "that is not my only misfortune. 
Yesterday a fight took place between the miners of 
Bayas and those of Mellado, and I was not there." 

"I see nothing so unfortunate in that." 

' ' Nothing unfortunate ! " vociferated Planillas. "Ah ! 
it was not one of those vulgar encounters that one 
sees every day ; and you would never guess how it 
terminated — by a shower of piastres which the miners 
of Mellado poured upon their adversaries to prove the 
superiority of their mine. Ah ! the beautiful eagle 
piastres!" he added, with a broken-hearted air; "and 
I was too late in the field." 

I could better understand Planillas's grief for this 



186 DON TOMAS APPEARS FOK THE FIRST TIME. 

last disappointment ; but I should have doubted this 
excess of arrogant prodigality on the part of the Mel- 
lado miners had not Fuentes confirmed, with proud 
satisfaction, the truth of the tale. My companion 
would again have questioned Planillas, of whose lam- 
entations he appeared suspicious, but a sudden crack- 
ing of branches in the brushwood behind us attracted 
his attention. A little thick-set man, a sort of dwarf 
Hercules, with a somewhat stern expression of coun- 
tenance, stood before us. He saluted us politely, and 
sat down on the ground beside Planillas. His mouth 
tried to smile, but his glance, sinister and piercing as 
that of a bird of prey, belied the feigned gayety. We 
were silent for a few moments. The new-comer was 
the first to speak. 

" You were talking just now," he said, " if my ears 
did not deceive me, of one Don Tomas. Could it be 
of Don Tomas Yerduzco you were speaking?" He 
said this in a soft and silky tone, that contrasted 
strongly with the evil expression of his countenance. 
This simple question, coming from a man who had at 
once inspired me with the strongest repugnance, sound- 
ed very much like an insult. 

"Precisely," I replied, exerting myself to keep cool; 
"I accused Don Tomas of the murder of a young man 
whom he did not even know the night before." 

"Are you sure?" said the man, with a sinister 
glance. 

' ' Ask this wretch ! " I replied, pointing to Planillas. 

On hearing this, Planillas bounced up as if he had 
been touched by a spring. He appeared to have re- 
covered all his assurance. " I never said any thing 
of the kind. But your lordship," cried he, in an iron- 
ical tone, " is surely not acquainted with the respecta- 



NEAELY OVER WITH DON T0MA8. 18V 

ble Don Tomas Verduzco, since you speak so in his 
presence." 

I looked at the man thus denounced to me, and 
whom I now beheld for the first time. Imagination 
placed before me the bleeding body of Don Jaime, his 
agony, his last moments, and his happy future, all cut 
off in an instant by the knife of the man before me. 

"Ah! you are Don Tomas Verduzco — " I could 
not finish. A sort of faintness came over me, and, 
without accounting to myself for what I was about to 
do, I cocked one of my pistols. At the click of the 
lock the stranger's face became livid, for Mexicans of 
the lower classes, who will not wince at the glitter of 
a knife-blade, tremble at the sight of a fire-arm in a 
European hand. He never stirred, however. Fuentes 
threw himself between us. 

" Gently, senor ! gently, Cascaras ! how you take 
the customs of the country ! " 

" The deuce take that Planillas," said the stranger, 
with a forced laugh ; " he is always playing off some 
joke or other. But the idea of passing me off as Don 
Tomas is too absurd. Has your lordship any interest, 
then, in this Don Tomas ?" 

My passion appeared to me ridiculous, and passed 
away as by enchantment. 

"I do not even know him," I replied, somewhat 
confusedly, but with all my former coolness. " I can 
not tell how he has got mixed up in my affairs ; but 
I think I owe it to my safety to show no mercy to 
such assassins when chance throws them in my way." 

The stranger muttered some unintelligible words. 
I thought the opportunity a good one to get rid of my 
new friend Desiderio, whose companionship was be- 
coming somewhat burdensome to me, so I saluted the 



188 AN OBLIGING OFFER. 

group and rode off; but I had not counted on the idle- 
ness of Fuentes, for, before I had gone a hundred 
yards, he had overtaken me. 

"I was perhaps wrong," he said, "to interfere in 
this affair, and to prevent you from lodging a bullet in 
the head of that ill-looking knave ; for, judging from 
the revengeful look he cast at you, I presume the first 
stroke of a knife you will receive will be from his 
hand." 

"Do you think so?" I replied, rather startled at 
this unpleasant prediction. 

" I yielded, in truth, too readily to my first im- 
pulse," continued Fuentes, who seemed in a reverie. 
"What if we went back?" he said. "You might then 
resume the affair at the point at which you left it, and, 
in case of need, I would help you." 

It was quite clear that Fuentes regretted having let 
slip this nice opportunity for a quarrel. I dryly re- 
fused his offer, and thought to myself that, decidedly, 
his second impulse was worse than his first. 

"You won't ! Well, it's no great matter. After all, 
who cares for a knife-thrust more or less ? I have re- 
ceived three in my time, and am not a bit the worse." 

I did not deem it necessary to make any reply to 
this remark, which did not place my guide's character 
in a very favorable light, and cut short his revelations 
by asking him some questions about the mine whose 
buildings were coming gradually into sight as we ap- 
proached. ■ , . 



DESCEIPTION OF A MINE. 189 



CHAPTER II. 

Description of, and descent into, a Silver Mine. — The Miner's Chap:-!. 

When a mine is first Ibegun, it is always left open 
to the sky, and the mineral is extracted by following 
the vein that contains it ; but, as the mine gets deep- 
er, two obstacles present themselves : the extraction 
of the ore becomes more costly, and the workmen are 
not long in meeting with hidden springs, the waters 
of which, unless removed, would drown the mine and 
stop the works. To provide against this danger, shafts 
are sunk, at the bottom of which a working gallery 
runs, that follows the vein of metal. The depth of 
the shaft depends upon, the lode, which sometimes 
stretches so far down into the ground that two or 
three working galleries, one above the other, are obliged 
to be constructed. In the richest mines little paths 
of communication are added to these principal arteries, 
besides other works to assist in its exploration. 

The ore and water are raised out of the mines by 
means of machines called Malacates, placed at the 
mouth of the shaft. Large bags, some made of the 
stringy bark of the aloe, others of ox-hide, are fixed to 
the ends of ropes wound round an enormous drum, 
the former for raising the ore, the latter for the water, 
and these are constantly passing up and down the 
shaft. The motive power is given by horses, which 
are kept constantly at the gallop. 

Besides the grand shaft {tiro general)^ the mine of 



190 THE EAYAS SILVER MINE. 

Rajas has two others of less importance, one of which 
reaches a depth of nearly eight hundred feet. The 
tiro general, remarkable for the diameter of its shaft, 
which is thirty-four feet, and for its frightful depth, 
almost twelve hundred feet, communicates with three 
principal galleries, one above the other, and these shafts 
and galleries, together with their accessories, form the 
most complete series of gigantic workings that are to 
be found in the country. The exterior appearance of 
this mine is, however, far from giving one an idea of 
the constant activity which prevails within it. Some 
paltry wooden sheds, covered with tiles, which protect 
the malacates, or shelter the workmen ; a few build- 
ings of mean appearance, the offices of the adminis- 
trators or overseers, and two or three whitewashed 
houses, huddled together without any regard to order 
on the neighboring mounds, scarcely convey to the vis- 
itor any notion of the wonders he is going to behold. 
It was about midday when I arrived with my com- 
panion at the opening by which we were to be admitted 
into the mine. We dismounted, confided our horses 
to the care of one of the miners, and entered. Desi- 
derio carried in his hand a huge torch. I stood for a 
short time at the mouth of this vast laboratory, think- 
ing on the millions of money it had been the means of 
putting into circulation. My guide, his cloak thickly 
covered with gold lace, that appeared, as the light of 
the torch fell on its velvety folds, to be seamed with 
golden links, looked like the lordly genie of this sub- 
terranean kingdom. We descended for a long time a 
serie's of steps, every one of which had the dimensions 
of a terrace. Amid the profound darkness, which the 
torch dispelled but feebly, we made a series of turn- 
ings and windings, changing every minute our temper- 



SCENE IN THE CHAPEL OF THE MINE. 191 

ature and direction, and sometimes mounting an in- 
clined plane only to descend it. In about a quarter 
of an hour I perceived in the distance some wandering 
lights, then a few gigantic shadows appeared on the 
moist walls of the vault. I still kept on, and soon 
found myself in a square which the piety of the miners 
had converted into a chapel. In the centre rose a low 
altar, ornamented with wax tapers, which burned be- 
fore an image of a saint. A man, who seemed to be 
praying fervently, was kneeling upon the steps of the 
altar. He was the first human being I had seen since 
entering the mine. 

My guide touched my arm. 

" Take a good look at this man," he said, in a low 
tone. The suppliant miner was entirely naked. With- 
out the light of the flambeau, which allowed you to see 
his gray hair and angular features, you would not have 
thought he was an old man, so much youth and vigor 
seemed still to possess his nervous members. 

"Why?" I inquired of Desiderio. 

" This man," said he, "is no stranger to the history 
of the hand upon the wall that you gazed at with so 
much curiosity this morning ; and, though that history 
is as well known to me as to him, perhaps from his 
lips it would have an additional interest, as his son 
was concerned in it." 

I fancied that I had at last found an opportunity 
for shaking off Desiderio by insinuating that the nar- 
rator would probably go more into detail if he were 
telling the story to me alone. This time he took the 
hint. 

"I am neither irritable nor quarrelsome," cried he ; 
" but your lordship seems very desirous to get rid of 
Ins devoted servant." 



192 THE OLD MINEE. 

" I must protest against the meaning you put upon 
my words." 

Fuentes seemed to Ibe calming down. 

" Come," said he, with an air of raillery, " I will re- 
nounce my desire of accompanying you through these 
subterranean abodes, seeing you wish it. Besides, I 
must find out the meaning of the comedy played this 
morning by Planillas upon the carcass of the mule. 
You must visit the mine without me ; and I shall tell 
you what I have learned about this fellow after you 
have come up the grand shaft, for, to crown your 
achievement, you must be drawn up by means of the 
malacate." 

I was in such a hurry to be quit of this personage 
that I promised all he asked, without remarking the 
ironical smile with which he welcomed my reply. At 
this moment the miner had finished his prayer. Fu- 
entes exchanged a few words with him in a low tone, 
and walked rapidly away. I felt relieved. 

" Senor Cavalier," said the new-comer to me, "my 
comrade Fuentes has made me acquainted with your 
desire to know the story of my son from my own lips 
— ^about him who was the pride of the corporation of 
miners. This desire does me honor ; but at present 
I can not accede to your wish. I am on my way to 
fire a charge in the mine. If I am still in being after 
that operation, I shall be with you in two hours, and 
place myself entirely at your disposal, for I love the 
brave, to whatever nation they may belong." 

"And who told you I was brave?" I asked, with 
an air of astonishment. 

" Oaramha ! a man who visits a mine for the first 
time, and who, as Fuentes tells me, has a strong de- 
sire to make the perilous ascent by means of the tiro! 



A MEXICAN SILVER MINE. 193 

Well, we shall go up together, and on our journey I 
shall tell you the story. I shall meet you, then, in 
two hours at the bottom of the last gallery, close upon 
the grand shaft." 

I could scarcely have avoided this pompous eulogi- 
um ; but I could not help feeling a certain sinking of 
heart at the very thought of being forced, as it were, 
against my will, to make this difficult and dangerous 
ascent. I was again indebted to Fuentes for this new 
annoyance. However, I promised to meet the old 
miner at the time appointed, and, being alone, I profit- 
ed by my independence so far as to examine at my 
leisure the new world into which I found myself trans- 
ported. I had the torch which Desiderio had left with 
me, and walked about at my pleasure. Above me, fan- 
cifully hollowed out in the living rock, and studded 
Avith brilliant spangles, stretched vaults of unequal 
grandeur, some sustained by wooden props, others let- 
ting their sharp points descend, like the pendant of a 
Gothic lamp, till they threatened to fall and bruise 
one to pieces. A few tiny streamlets, which flowed 
along the bottom of the rough pilasters, gleamed 
brightly as the light of the torch fell upon them. At 
a distance, large drops of water escaped from the fis- 
sures in the rocks, and fell on the stony soil with the 
dull, regular beat of a pendulum. Before me several 
dark squares opened ; the noise of footsteps reverber- 
ated in the sombre caves, and died away in the dis- 
tance. Various lights from time to time struggled 
through the deep gloom ; these were the miners pass- 
ing and repassing, with a rush-light stuck behind their 
ear, looking like the gnomes of the magicians, who, 
with a light on their forehead, watch over the hidden 
treasures of their masters. 

I 



194 A MEXICAN SILVEE MINE. 

I advanced with all caution ; for, left without a 
guide in this labyrinth, I did not know which way to 
go. I soon heard in the distance the dull sound of 
the pickaxes with which they were hewing away the 
rock, mingled with mysterious noises which seemed to 
come from a lower gallery. These sounds, though 
very indistinct, served to. guide me. Since entering 
the mine, I had seen only those passages in which the 
ore had been all extracted. I was now impatient to 
behold a spot in which the miners were actually at 
work. Such a locality is called the labor — that is to 
say, the place where they are following the vein of sil- 
ver. A dusky, obscure glimmer indicated that the 
proximity of the place was not far off; and I soon 
reached the orifice of a shaft not very deep, from which 
a strong light proceeded. I descended it by means of 
a wooden ladder placed zigzag. I hesitated at first to 
trust myself to this rickety ladder ; but, emboldened 
by the shallowness of the shaft, I ventured tQ descend, 
and arrived safely at the bottom. A passage about 
five feet wide, and six hundred in length, conducted 
me along this underground hive, the air in which was 
as hot and stifling as if it had left the mouth of a cra- 
ter. Lost in the midst of this crowd of workmen, who 
were too busy to notice my presence, I could examine 
at my ease the fantastic tableau which there met my 
eyes. A number of candles, stuck to the walls, threw 
a dull, confused light upon the miners, the greater por- 
tion of whom, up to their waists in water, were attack- 
ing the living rock with vigorous strokes of their har- 
retas. Others trudged off loaded with sacks of ore, 
the weight of which brought their muscles into ten- 
sion, while the lighted rush-light which they carried 
upon their heads shone full upon their bronzed bodies. 



A MEXICAN SILVER MINE. 195 

trickling with sweat, and their long floating hair. The 
sharp sound of the pickaxes striking the rock — the 
splash of the stones in the water — the voices of the 
miners — their shrill cries, and wheezy breathings, 
seemed at times to shake the very vault. The red- 
dish glare of the candles reflected in the water — the 
dust — the vapor, which filled the place like a mist — 
the coppery veins which ran in all directions through 
the rock, all combined to increase the singularity of 
the spectacle. 

After spending there a considerable time, I resolved 
to make my way.to a lower gallery, at the end of which 
I was to meet the old miner. The ascent I was to 
make from that place did not seem so perilous as I at 
first imagined, and I should, besides, be saved going 
over the same ground. I requested one of the miners 
to conduct me to this place, as I feared to lose my 
way in the maze, the paths crossing and recrossing 
each other in all directions. I began, also, to feel the 
necessity of breathing a purer air, and followed my new 
guide with pleasure. 

I went down an inclined plane so long that the joints 
of my legs knocked together, and arrived at last, worn 
out and breathless, at the extremity of the last gallery, 
which formed a right angle with the grand shaft, 
whose black mouth yawned right at my feet. This 
shaft was carried down still lower. The miner had 
not yet arrived. To a solitary workman, who seemed 
to have been forgotten in these vast catacombs, was 
assigned a most dangerous and frightful task. Close 
at hand, another shaft full of water was in process of 
being slowly emptied by means of an enormous bag 
of ox-hide attached to the cable of the malacate. 
When full, it was raised by means of the invisible 



196 A MEXICAN SILVER MINE. 

machine twelve hundred feet above ; hut, being vio- 
lently drawn in an oblique direction toward the axis 
of the grand shaft, the bag, distended with water, was 
in danger of being cut against the sharp rocks, had not 
the workman deadened the impulse it had received 
from the first motion of the malacate. On a narrow 
space between the two pits, in the midst of almost ut- 
ter darkness, the peon held on to a double rope passed 
round the cable, whose two extremities he held in his 
hands ; then, as he was pulled with a fearful rapidity 
to the mouth of the gulf, he let go all at once one of 
the ends of the rope, and the bag struck the opposite 
side of the rock very gently ; but, had he made one 
false step, or let go the rope a second too late, he 
would have been dashed down an almost unfathoma- 
ble abyss. I regarded the unhappy wretch who, ev- 
ery quarter of an hour during the whole day, hazarded 
his life for scanty wages with a feeling of pity and 
commiseration. 

The bag had already ascended and descended four 
times ; that is to say, an hour had elapsed, and not a 
single person had yet appeared. I must confess that, 
at the sight of the dark, gloomy shaft which I had to 
ascend, I felt my spirits sink somewhat ; and as the 
old miner did not make his appearance, I pardoned 
him in my heart with a good grace, when, through 
the thick darkness, the cable of the malacate came in 
sight. A feeble glimmer lighted up the damp walls, 
and a voice, which was not unknown to me, called 
out, 

"Halloo! friend, is there not a gentleman waiting 
here to go up by the tiro ?" 

I had scarcely answered that I was ready than a 
packet fell at my feet. I untied mechanically the cord 



I BEGIN THE JOUENEY UPWAED. 197 

which encircled it. The parcel contained a vest, trow- 
sers of thick wool, a leathern baton, and a kind of 
plaited rope made of the bark of the aloe. I asked in 
some terror if the vest and trowsers were quite suffi- 
cient to deaden a fall of twelve hundred feet. As for 
the^ leathern baton and the plaited strap, I guessed 
their use at once. The workmen near me described 
the use of each of these articles. The woolen clothing 
was to keep me from being wet by the water, which 
" shot forth in fine rain at certain places in the shaft. I 
was to attach myself to the cable bj means of the 
plaited strap, and the baton was to prevent me from 
being dashed to pieces on the rock by the oscillations 
of the rope. 

" Make haste!" cried my invisible guide ; "we have 
no time to lose." 

I put on the clothes with all speed, drew the cable to- 
ward me, and grasped it firmly with my hands, crossing 
my legs likewise over it. The peon passed the strap • 
twice or thrice round my body and under my thighs, 
so as to form a kind of seat, tied the two ends firmly 
to the cable, and placed the baton in my hands.' He 
had scarcely finished ere I felt myself lifted from the 
ground by an invisible power. I spun round three 6r 
four times, and, when I recovered from my astonish- 
ment, found myself already swinging over the gulf. A 
little above my head I perceived the legs of my o-uide, 
who was grasping the cable tightly. Although he 
carried a torch, I could discover but imperfectly his 
copper body, half naked, which, at certain moments, 
gleamed like Florentine bronze. However, I could 
make out his words quite well. 

"Am I well enough tied to the cable, do you think?" 
I asked, seeing that not a single knot or roughness in 



198 DESCEIPTION OF THE SHAFT. 

the rope could prevent the strap that hound me from 
shpping to the bottom. 

" Well, I suppose you are, unless the peon has done 
his business ill," replied the miner, in a calm tone; 
"but, should that not be the case, you can grasp the 
rope with your hands with all your might." 

I clutched the cable convulsively. Unfortunately, 
I could hardly compass it with my two hands. 

" How long shall we be in going up ?" 

" Twelve minutes commonly, but in this instance 
half an hour — a favor which I have obtained solely on 
your account, to allow you more time to observe the 
wonders of the mine." 

"And does any accident ever happen in the ascent?" 

" Pardon me. An Englishman, who happened to 
be ill bound to the rope, fell almost from the top to 
the very bottom, and so suddenly and quietly that a 
fellow-workman of mine, who was his guide, had not 
*remarked his disappearance till, he was at the top of 
the shaft." 

I thought it best to ask no more questions. When 
I considered that five minutes had elapsed since the 
first movement of the malacate, I ventured to look 
above and below me. The shaft seemed to be divided 
into three distinct zones. At my feet a thick dark- 
ness dimmed the horror of that gulf which no eye 
could fathom ; white tepid vapors rose slowly from the 
dark bottom and mounted toward us. Around me, 
the guide's torch lighted up with a smoky glimmer the 
green walls of rock, cut and torn in all directions by 
the pickaxe and the wedge. In the upper region a 
column of thick mist pressed round the circle of light 
produced by our torch, and shut us out completely 
from the light of day. At this moment the machine 



THE minee's stoey. 199 

stopped to give the horses breath. I clutched the ca- 
ble anew as if it were slipping from me, and shut my 
eyes to avoid looking downward. 

" This halt is especially for you," said my guide. 
" I had forgotten that I was to tell you a story, and 
this aiFords me time." 

Without waiting for my reply, the miner commenced 
a recital whose incidents and minute details could not, 
in a dangerous ascent like this, fail to be deeply en- 
graven on my memory. The attention I gave to the 
narrator kept my mind from dwelling upon the dan- 
gerous position in which I was at the moment, and 
this cessation of thought I would have welcomed at 
almost any price. 



CHAPTER III. 



Story of the Passer of the Rio Atotonilco, Osorio. — Felipe. — The 
young Miner. — A Duel in the Mine. 

" You are perhaps aware," said the miner, " that 
in passing from San Miguel el Grande* to Dolores, the 
traveler is obliged to cross the Rio Atotonilco. In 
the rainy season the passage of this river can not be 
made by any but those who know the principal fords. 
The stream is about sixty yards wide at the place 
where the road to San Miguel meets it. The impetu- 
osity of its waters, and the heavy, imposing noise of 
its yellow waves, produce an involuntary terror in any 

* A small town near Guanajuato, celebrated for its manufactures of 
zarapes, which almost rival those of Saltillo. Dolores is^a market- 
town, still more celebrated for having been the cradle of Mexican in- 
dependence. 



200 THE miner's story. 

one who requires to cross it at this place. On the op- 
posite "bank, a few calbins, formed of branches, shelter 
a few wretched families, who make a scanty living hy 
piloting the passengers across by the fords, with which 
th'ey are acquainted. Often, when the traveler on the 
other side sees the poor half-clad people wandering 
upon the bank, and throwing themselves into the wa- 
ter, he hesitates, turns his bridle, and gallops off. A 
sad event proved that too little confidence can not be 
placed in men who will not be contented with the 
scanty living they pick up at this dangerous employ- 
ment. Some years ago, an old miner of Zacatecas, 
who had rendered himself obnoxious to justice, and 
had quitted that province, came and established him- 
self among the passers of the Rio Atotonilco. This 
man, whose strength and prowess rendered him for- 
midable, was marked as having a singularly unlucky 
hand. Once or twice, the travelers whom he had en- 
gaged to convey across had been ingulfed by the wa- 
ters of the river. One stormy night, believing him- 
self alone, and seeing a traveler on the opposite bank, 
the passer crossed the ford to tender his services. He 
was observed by one of his comrades who had follow- 
ed him, but who had hid himself among a thick clump 
of osiers on the brink of the river for the purpose of 
watching all that passed. The passer, having crossed 
the river, soon reappeared, followed by the cavalier, 
whose horse he led by the bridle. When half way 
across he mounted behind, and, a few seconds after, 
the splash of some one falling into the water was 
heard. One only of the horsemen remained in the 
saddle. This man reached the opposite bank at a 
considerable distance from the hamlet, and was soon 
lost in the darkness. The witness to the crime was 



THE MINEE'S STOEY. 201 

a young man whom the passer had, a few days before, 
brutally ill used, and he was now seeking an opportu- 
nity for revenge. Thinking he had found it, he threw 
himself into the water, swam after the sinking body, 
and soon succeeded in dragging the unhappy man to 
the other bank, whom, by his tonsure and dress, he 
guessed to be a priest. Overcome with fatigue, the 
youth fainted. When he recovered his senses it was 
broad daylight, and the body of the priest was gone — 
carried off, doubtless, by some charitably-disposed per- 
sons who had been passing. That circumstance did 
not check the young man's eagerness to make his dep- 
osition before the alcalde of the nearest village ; but, 
though a pursuit was set on foot, it was unsuccess- 
ful" 

My guide checked himself at this moment. As if 
we had arrived in the region of clouds, a mist envel- 
oped us, which gradually converted itself into a fine 
and almost impalpable, but soaking rain. The torch 
sputtered, and gave forth, a very feeble glimmer. The 
water ran off the bronzed body of the miner in streams. 
The machine again stopped, and I felt a new sinking 
of heart, similar to the feeling one has on the deck of 
a laboring ship, when he thinks that every moment he 
is going to the bottom. A short and terrible appre- 
hension increased the fear of immediate danger which 
had come over me. I fancied that the strap which 
bound me to the cable had slipped, and I was sliding 
downward. I gave a convulsive shudder. 

" Has the strap got loose ?" cried the miner ; then, 
looking downward, and seeing me always at the same 
distance- from him, he continued, with imperturbable 
calmness : "A short time after the disappearance of 
the passer, about whom the strangest stories were 

12 



202 THE miner's stoey. 

noised abroad, a new miner came to work at Rayas, 
which is about a dozen leagues from E,io Atotonilco. 
He said he had served his apprenticeship in the neigh- 
boring state of Cinaloa, and by his good-humor and 
liberality (for he appeared to have other resources be- 
sides his daily pay) soon gained the friendship of all 
his fellow-workmen. My son Felipe was the one he 
attached himself to more than any of tlie others. 
There was, however, between him and Osorio (that 
was the new miner's name) a complete dissimilarity in 
age and disposition. FeHpe was a rough, unpolished 
workman, jealous of the reputation he had acquired, 
and haughty as a miner ought to be ; for we have no 
need of ancient privileges to distinguish us from the 
vulgar, our profession ennobling the right that is grant- 
ed us. Osorio, on the other hand, who was twice the 
age of Felipe, seemed to look upon labor as a burden, 
and passed his time in thrumming a guitar and preach- 
ing insubordination to the mandones (overseers). How- 
ever, their friendship might have been of a lasting na- 
ture had they not both fallen in love with the same 
woman. This was the first time that they ever had a 
sentiment in common, in spite of their intimacy, and 
this was what produced the first quarrel. Tliey con- 
tinued, however, in spite of these differences, to pay 
their attentions to the fair damsel ; for, though she 
preferred Felipe, she could not give up Osorio's music 
and merry good-humor. The frequent absence of the 
latter gave a great advantage to Felipe. During one 
of Osorio's times of absence, a report spread abroad 
that the Cathedral of Guanajuato had been burgla- 
riously entered, and that a monstrance of massy gold, 
adorned with precious stones, had disappeared from 
the place in which it was usually put. This sacrile- 



THE miner's story. 203 

gious theft struck the clergymen of the town with hor- 
ror ; but all then- exertions to discover the daring rob- 
ber were in vain. In the absence of Osorio, Felipe 
had succeeded in gaining the first place in the affec- 
tions of the maiden to whom both had been paying 
their addresses. Her parents resolved to marry her 
to him, as it would tend to cut short the incessant 
quarrels that were ever taking place between them. 
The wedding was to take place in a short time, and 
aU the friends of both families assembled at the young 
woman's house to celebrate their betrothal. Brandy 
and pulque flowed profusely, and music enlivened the 
feast, when an unexpected occurrence brought every 
thing to a stand-still. A man stood in the midst of 
the guests ; that man was Osorio. Every one knew 
his violent disposition, and his sudden appearance 
caused all to tremble. Felipe alone remained cool, 
and waited, knife in hand, the attack of his rival ; but 
he, without putting his hand to his belt, advanced into 
the circle, and apologized for having come without an 
invitation ; then, taking a guitar from one of the mu- 
sicians, he seated himself on a barrel of pulque^ and 
began to improvise a bolero. This unexpected event 
caused a general surprise, and the merriment was re- 
doubled. The party, interrupted for a moment, be- 
came more boisterous, and it broke up to assemble 
again on the eighth day afterward." 

Here the narrator paused. We were gradually ap- 
proaching the mouth of the tiro, as I could discover 
by the light shining through the fog which still envel- 
oped us ; besides, the higher we got, the gulf below 
appeared more frightful. 

" Do you know what distance we are from the bot- 
tom of the mine?" cried the guide. " Five and a half 



204 THE miner's story. 

times the height of the towers of the Cathedral of 
Mexico." 

To confirm this assertion, the miner drew from his 
belt a bundle of tow steeped in pitch, which he lighted 
at his torch. My strained eye could scarcely follow 
it as it slowly descended the pit like a globe of fire, 
till it gradually became small as one of those pale stars 
whose light scarcely reaches our earth. The voice of 
the miner, who again began his recital, turned my mind 
away from this reflection. 

" From that night on which Osorio showed himself 
at the betrothal, Felipe was annoyed in a thousand 
ways by some unknown hand. On the very next day 
a blast was fired close to him, and covered him with 
fragments of rock ; another time, when he was at a 
considerable height in one of the galleries, the rope to 
which he was suspended broke suddenly. These at- 
tempts being unsucccssfal, vague assertions began to 
be bruited abroad, accusing poor Felipe as the thief 
who had stolen the monstrance. The brave young 
man was unwilling to recognize in Osorio the author 
of these foul calumnies. His eyes could hardly have 
been opened to the evidence that he was his calumni- 
ator, had not a young miner, who constantly watched 
Osorio, and who had lately entered the mine, apprised 
Felipe of the snares that were laid for him. Felipe 
resolved to seek his revenge. On the evening of the 
day on which the marriage was to take place (for all 
this had passed in less than a week), Osorio and Felipe 
met in the subterranean galleries of the mine. Felipe 
reproached Osorio with his treachery ; Osorio replied 
by recounting the injuries he had suffered ; the two 
then drew their knives. They were alone and almost 
naked ; their frazadas were their onlv shields. Oso- 



THE miner's stoey. 205 

rio was the stronger, Felipe the more agile; the issue 
of the comhat was therefore uncertain. All at once 
the young miner of whom I have spoken threw him- 
self between the two combatants. 'Allow me,' said 
he, to Felipe, ' to punish this sacrilegious robber ; my 
claim is anterior to yours.' Osorio gnashed his teeth 
and threw himself on the young miner, who stood grim- 
ly on his defense. The two then began to fight by 
the light of Felipe's torch, who had now become a spec- 
tator instead of an actor. With their frazadas wound 
round their left arms to hide their lunges, they com- 
menced the combat. Perhaps the struggle would have 
been a long-protracted one had not the young miner 
adopted the following stratagem : he took such a po- 
sition as allowed the covering on his arm to sweep the 
ground ; then, behind the veil which masked his move- 
ments, he slipped his knife into his other hand, and 
gave his adversary a mortal wound. Osorio fell. He 
was drawn up by the grand shaft in a costal* By 
chance 2, padre happened to be passing the mine at 
that moment. They besought him to come and con- 
fess the wounded man ; but scarcely had the dying 
man and the padre looked at one another than a cry 
of horror broke from the priest. The holy father had 
recognized in the wounded man the passer of the Rio 
Atotonilco. Osorio discovered in the priest the man 
he thought he had drowned, but who had escaped as 
if by a miracle from almost certain death. After that, 
by the investigations of justice, many mysteries were 
cleared up. The passer of the Rio Atotonilco, the 
sacrilegious robber, the miner of Zacatecas, and also 
of Rayas, were one and the same person. The gar- 
rote did justice to the crimes of this wretch, and it was 
* A kind of basket formed from the filaments of the aloe. 



206 CONCLUSION OF THE MINEE's STOEY. 

his hand you saw nailed to the wall in the grand square 
of Guanajuato. I must now tell you what became of 
Felipe. The providential recognition of the victim and 
his assassin was soon noised abroad, and a few hours 
afterward a band of alguazils appeared to arrest the 
miner who had stabbed Osorio. Unluckily, on that 
day Felipe had quitted his work sooner than ordinary. 
I do not know by what fatal mistake he had been 
pointed out as the murderer of Osorio ; perhaps it was 
an additional token of good-heartedness on that cai- 
tiff's part — at any rate, the alguazils came to seize him. 
The victorious combatant had escaped, and I need not 
tell you that this mortal enemy of Osorio's was no 
other than the young man whom he had ill used, and 
who was a witness of the crime he had committed on 
the Kio Atotonilco. Had Felipe remained under 
ground, the alguazils would not have ventured into 
the inner workings of the mine, for the miners would 
not have suffered any injury to be inflicted on a com- 
rade in their fueros. The alguazils perceived the 
young man in one of the courts of the mine buildings, 
and immediately set off in pursuit. Felipe saw he 
was lost ; but he resolved to die a miner's death, and 
not suffer himself to be dishonored by the touch of 
the bailiffs. Having arrived at the brink of this very 
shaft quite out of breath, ' I will not be insulted as if 
I were a vile Mpero,' he cried ; ' a miner is more than 
man ; he is the instrument whom God delights to em- 
ploy!' Then, with pale face and gleaming eyes, he 
leaped over the balustrade surrounding the shaft, and 
disappeared in the black gulf which now yawns be- 
neath your feet." 

The miner paused, and the light of his torch grew 
dim. High above our heads, at tiie mouth of the 



A TEIAL OF MY COUEAGE, 207 

shaft, appeared the first gleam of daylight, like the 
pale blushes of early morning. The impression which 
the miner's story had made upon me was so great that 
I could not help trembling in every limb. 

" It was very nearly ten years ago," said the miner, 
in a hollow voice, " since Felipe threw himself down 
this abyss, and I have never ascended the shaft since, 
and that has been often, without having a strong de- 
sire to cut the cable." 

And the madman brandished a large knife, as if he 
were preparing to carry it really into effect. I would 
have called aloud for assistance, but, as in a frightful 
dream, my tongue refused to perform its office. My 
hands even refused to grasp the rope. Besides, what 
good would it do me ? the cable was going to be cut 
right above my head. I threw a mournful look at the 
pale light which was tinging the green walls of the 
shaft, and listened to the indefinite noises which told 
me we were slowly approaching the haunts of men — 
the dusky daylight appeared so beautiful — the con- 
fused noises above seemed such delightful harmony. 
At this moment a peal of subterranean thunder burst 
up under my feet, and the mine roared through its 
many mouths like a growling volcano. The com- 
pressed air being inclosed in this enormous siphon, a 
powerful blast, equal to that of a strong whirlwind, 
shook the cable like a silk thread, and we received 
several severe bruises against the rocks. The torch 
was blown out ; but, luckily, the terrible knife slip- 
ped from the miner's hands, and went whirring down 
the shaft. 

'■''Cascaras ! a new knife gone, worth two piastres," 
cried a voice, which I immediately recognized as that 
of Fuentes. I had scarcely pronounced his name ere 



208 THE ASCENT FINISHED. 

a great shout of laughter burst forth right above me. 
It was Fuentes indeed, who had come down to serve 
me as a guide, and play the part of the old miner. 
The extreme eagerness I had shown to get rid of him 
prompted him to this kind of revenge. 

"Do you know, Senor Cavalier," he remarked, 
" that you are not easily frightened ? In a situation 
such as would have tried the nerves of the bravest 
man, you did not even condescend to shout for help." 

" Certainly not," I replied, with an impudence which 
surpassed his own ; " you see you have only made 
yourself ridiculous by trying to frighten me." 

The malacate now stopped ; we had finished our 
ascent. Desiderio was first unloosed, and I waited 
my turn in feverish anxiety. When the strap which 
bound me to the cable had been untied, I could scarce- 
ly keep myself from fainting outright. I soon recov-. 
ered my senses, however. I pressed the earth with a 
kind of rapture. Never had Nature seemed so beau- 
tiful, so resplendent, as on that day. 

In the interval that passed while our horses were 
getting ready, Fuentes, who had resumed his gaudy 
dress, stood silently by, and I took care not to be the 
first to speak. My foot was nalready in the stirrup 
when an old man came up to me. I could scarcely 
recognize, in the person whose dress vied in richness 
with that of Fuentes, the old miner whom I had seen 
a few hours before kneeling at the altar. 

" You will pardon me for having broken my word," 
said he to me ; " but my work detained me longer 
than I'expected. You must have heard the explosion 
in the mine : it took place not half an hour ago." 

" True," I replied. " I have been also told a touch- 
ing and very mournful story." 



NOBILITY OF THE MINEK. 209 

« My boy behaved nobly," replied the old man, rais- 
ing his head proudly ; "and you can tell in your own 
country that the miners are a race by themselves, and 
that they know how to prefer death to dishonor." 

I have seen the gold-seekers in the state of Sonora, 
and could not help admiring the kind of grandeur which 
characterizes their physiognomy, for every thing in the 
desert takes the largest proportions ; but in the towns 
the type of the miner was far from exercising upon 
me a like fascination. The whimsical and capricious 
character of Fuentes, and the immorality of Planillas, 
had brought about this disenchantment. The story I 
had heard, while it helped to make up my mind partly 
about the class, proved that the miner had not quite 
degenerated : the vices of Planillas, and the oddities 
of Fuentes, like the dark shades in a picture, disap- 
peared before the austere figure of that -old stoic who 
had bidden me farewell with such haughty expres- 
sions, and I forgot Osorio only when I called Felipe 
to remembrance. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Rencounter with Don Tomas Verduzco. 

•I FANCIED a favorable moment had at last arrived 
for taking leave of Fuentes, for whom I entertained no 
good feeling, though a regard for myself caused me to 
conceal it. 

" What !" said he, " are you going to town ? I am 
going there also ; and you will find it more cheerful to 
have a companion by the way." 
, We set out. Daylight was fast ebbing away, and 



210 PLANILLAS MISSING. 

it was doubtful if we should reach Guanajuato before 
nightfall. Desiderio kept up a continual flow of talk 
about the sayings and doings of tlie miners, and what 
an excellent profession he belonged to ; but I took no 
interest in his conversation, and inwardly imprecated 
the bore whom I could not shake off. All at once he 
stopped, and struck his forehead with the palm of his 
hand. 

" Voto al demonio P cried he. " I have forgotten 
the unhappy devil for these two hours, and he may 
have bled to death by this time." 
" Whom do you refer to ?" 
"Planillas, to be sure." 

Almost at the same moment Fuentes went off at a 
gallop. I had now got a capital opportunity of rid- 
ding myself of him ; but my curiosity prevailed, and 
I hastened after him. When we had arrived at a 
place not far from where we had that morning met 
Planillas plunged in grief, sitting on the carcass of the 
mule, Desiderio paused, and made a gesture of sur- 
prise. 

" I don't see any body," I said. 
"No more do I, and that's what astonishes me. 
True, he must have been tired waiting. It is very 
shabby of him ; and another time I won't believe him. 
However, it is more than probable that some charita- 
ble person has removed him, for he had excellent rea- 
sons for remaining there till the sounding of the last 
trump." 

" What has happened to him ?" 

"Look!" said Fuentes, pointing to the earth .dyed 

in blood, and to the mule which the vultures were 

then preying upon. The miner added that, in the 

morning after leaving me, he had returned to ask some 



A STRATAGEM. EECKLESSNESS. 211 

questions of Planillas, whose crooked morality made 
him an object of suspicion. Not finding either him 
or the mule at the place he had left them, he had fol- 
lowed their traces, and having arrived at the spot 
where we now were, found poor Florencio lying on the 
ground almost insensible, and bleeding profusely. He 
had then learned the truth from the lips of the wound- 
ed man. The mule, which Florencio and his compan- 
ion were dragging to a solitary place, had died, it is 
true, in the hacienda de platas ; but Florencio had 
never seen the animal till that day, and the cause of 
his tender solicitude was, that its flanks contained a 
number of silver ingots which Planillas had stolen and 
hidden there, so that the clerk of the mines might not 
discover them. The stratagem had been successful ; 
but when they came to divide the spoil, after having 
drawn *it to a still more solitary spot, a quarrel arose, 
and the result was, that Planillas got nothing but a 
couple of stabs from the ready knife of his neighbor, 
which had placed his life in great danger. 

" You can guess the rest," continued Fuentes. "I 
could not help being sorry for the fellow, and went 
away, promising to send him assistance. I can't tell 
how it is, but I completely forgot the poor devil." 

Fuentes was right in not boasting of his second im- 
pulse. As for this reckless indifference to human life, 
I had seen too many similar instances in Mexico to 
be at all astonished at it. I rode sadly back to Gua- 
najuato, still in the company of Fuentes, who did not 
fail to stop me at the little pent-house in which the 
hand of the sacrilegious robber was exposed. This 
memorial of a barbarous justice reminded me that I 
had observed some imperfections in the miner's story. 

" If I understood you aright," I said, "of the three 



212 EXPLANATION OF THE MINER'S STOET. 

persons, actors and witness, who were present at tlic 
duel between Osorio and the young mmer, two are 
dead, and the third escaped. How comes it, then, that 
you can speak so positively about actions of which no 
person could have informed you ?" 

"Very simply," replied Fuentes. "I had forgot- 
ten to tell you that it was I who killed Osorio ; it was I 
who witnessed the deed on the Eio Atotonilco. Don't 
think, however, that I am an utterly heartless bravo 
like that Don Tomas, surnamed Yerduyo* I have 
given, it is true, more than one stroke in my time ; but 
in Mexico one must see a little justice done to one's 
self. Were you not yourself on the very point of kill- 
ing a man this morning? And don't you think that 
a similar case might perchance happen to me ?" 

I shuddered at this rude speech, which reminded me 
of the danger I ran by remaining any longer iA Gua- 
najuato. The man whose life I had threatened that 
day was, I had no doubt, the murderer of Don Jaime. 
It may be easily imagined that I felt some degree of 
satisfaction in finding myself safe at the door of my 
hotel. 

"All! you live here?" said Fuentes, grasping my 
hand ; "I am very glad I know ; I shall call on you 
to-morrow, and we shall have a pleasant day together." 

" Well, to-morrow," I said. We parted, and I en- 
tered the inn. 

My valet Cecilio waited on me with as much impa- 
tience as curiosity in his countenance. He had been 
long obliged to make himself acquainted with all the 
particulars of my life, but seldom had he been neces- 
sitated to follow me into such a maze of disaffreeable 

o 

incidents. I interrupted his questions by ordering 

* Lit., poniard. 



MY MUSINGS ABOUT DON JAIME. 213 

him to have our horses saddled at midnight, as I wish- 
ed to avoid both Fuentes and the treacherous designs 
of Don Toraas. 

"After this," said I, "we shall travel only at night; 
it is better for the health." 

By traveling at night and sleeping during the day, 
I reasonably hoped to baffle all pursuit. However, 
grown bolder by success, I returned to my ordinary 
habits ; and when I came to the venta of Arroyo Zar- 
co, it was midday before I arrived, after having pass- 
ed the night at San Juan del Rio, and journeying al- 
most the whole day. In this last stage of my excur- 
sion many sorrowful remembrances crowded into my 
mind. The plain, the venta, alike reminded me of 
Don Jaime. It was while musing sadly on this 
young man, so prematurely cut off, that I found my- 
self, almost without knowing it, at the very spot where 
he had lighted his fire. Of so many dreams of love 
and fortune, what was left behind ? A corpse three 
hundred miles away, a few burned sticks, and some 
ashes which the winds of the plain were scattering 
about ! The supper-hour approaching, I went to pass 
away an idle hour, if not at the common table, at least 
in a room where all the travelers, and they were nu- 
merous on that day, were generally accustomed to take 
their meals. The company consisted, as it had done 
before, of a curious mixture of all classes of Mexican 
society, but I had no end in view as I had then, and 
accordingly seated myself in a corner after looking 
around me with a careless eye. I thought for some 
time on the cruel isolation to which foreigners are sub- 
jected in those countries inhabited by people of Span- 
ish extraction, when the hostess pronounced, almost at 
my ear, the name of a person that made me start. 



214 SUDDEN REAPPEARANCE OF DON TOMAS. 

" Sefior Don Tomas," cried the hostess, "here is 
a foreigner who was inquiring after you a fortnight 
ago, and whom I was telling you about just now." 

I jumped up. In the man whom the hostess had 
addressed, and which a secret feeling in my own mind 
convinced me was the person, I recognized the sinister 
companion of Planillas. A cold shudder ran through 
my whole frame. I looked at the by-standers, but I 
could see on their countenances only that expression 
of apathetic indifference which makes a comedy or a 
tragedy a matter of mere moonshine to them. Almost 
immediately, and before I was able to prevent it, I 
was strained between two strong muscular arms. I 
disengaged myself without any ceremony, but he af- 
fected not to perceive the repugnance with which he 
had inspired me. 

"Ah!" cried he, with an impudence seldom to be 
met with, "how happy am I at meeting here a cava- 
lier who has won my entire regard ! What ! were 
you inquiring after me ? In what can I serve you ?" 

" It was all a misconception on my part, I can as- 
sure you ; but, if you have not forgotten your visit to 
the Secunda 2£onte7nlla* you may perhaps recall to 
your memory your object in coming there." 

" Do you live there ? You can then boast that you 
have come more than two leagues in search of me.' 

" I have gone two hundred and forty to meet you," 
I answered, " and find you here at last." 

The bravo replied by the same constrained smile I 
had seen his face wear the first time I met him. "I 
was seeking for a foreigner with whom I had been en- 
gaged to do a little business, and an error that I now 
recognize alone conducted me to you ; but I know 

* The street in Mexico where I lived. 



ASSUEANCE OF THE BEAVO. 215 

you now, Senor Cavalier, and will not commit the 
same blunder a second time. I only need to see a 
person once to remember him ever after. I never for- 
get faces, even at the end of twenty years." 

These last words were accented in such a way as 
to leave me in no doubt of the ruffian's meaning. I 
said not a word, but the bravo seemed to have repent- 
ed of having shown any resentment. Turning to the 
hostess, and in a tone of rough gayety, 

"Halloo, Patrona r cried he; "you have doubt- 
less supplied this cavalier, whom I hold in particular 
esteem, with the best fare your house affords ?" 

" I have supped," I said, interrupting him, " and I 
must only express my perfect satisfaction with our 
hostess's arrangements ; besides, I am not hungry." 

" Well, we shall drink to our unexpected meeting. 
Patrona, bring us a bottle of Catalonian brandy." 

I was quite at a loss how to decline this forced in- 
vitation that prudence was urging me to accept, when 

Captain Don Bias P , or rather lieutenant, for he 

held the former title only by courtesy, rose from the 
table, and advanced to welcome me. 

"You are one of us, captain, I hope?" said the 
bravo. 

The captain accepted his offer ; but, emboldened by 
his presence, I formally refused. 

" I am much jaded and tired," I said, " and would 
rather go to my room. Captain Don Bias, if your 
road lies the same way as mine, I should be happy to 
profit by your company, and to-morrow at break of 
day we might pursue our journey to Mexico tegether." 

Don Bias excused himself at not being able to agree 
to my proposal by stating that certain very important 
business would detain him all next day in the neigh- 



216 THE J3KAV0 SHAKEN OFF. 

borhood. He then sat down opposite Don Tomas, 
before whom the hostess had already placed the bottle 
of Catalonian brandy. 

" Good-night, then, senores," I exclaimed. " I hope 
your slumbers will be as refreshing as mine." 

I settled my bill, and, disguising my precipitate 
retreat under an air of haughty defiance, quitted the 
room with measured steps, the bravo all the while re- 
garding my motions with indirect glances. I reached 
my room, fearing more the oily silkiness of Don To- 
mas than his anger. I found Cecilio sleeping on our 
saddles. 

"Listen!" I said, awakening hina. "Saddle our 
horses immediately without any noise ; then bring 
them round to the back of the venta, and wait for me 
there. In a quarter of an hour I shall be with you." 

That time had hardly elapsed when I quitted the 
hostelry without being observed. My flight at this 
time formed a striking contrast to that which I had 
shared so cheerfully with Don Jaime. I need not say 
that we covered the distance between Arroyo Zarco 
and Mexico still more rapidly than on our departure : 
the parts only were changed. The man before wliom 
I was flying was that very person I had been pursu- 
ing so long. Thank heaven, the issue of this adven- 
ture was not tragical, as I feared at one time it would 
have become. 



dlaptain JDon Bias anif tl)£ ^limv (EonDO^. 



CHAPTER I. 

Threatened Insurrection in Mexico. — Stealthy Movements of Troops. — 
General Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. 

The day was approaching on which I was to leave 
Mexico for Vera Cruz, to embark for Europe. For 
several years before this a Yankee company had estab- 
lished a line of diligences which ran between several 
of the largest towns ; wagons, also, for the conveyance 
of heavy goods, competed with the picturesque cara- 
vans of the arrieros on all the principal roads. Ought 
I to give up my habit of solitary traveling for no other 
reason than the quickness of transit between Mexico 
and Vera Cruz ? I must then renounce the hospital- 
ity of the venta, so pleasant after a long ride — the si- 
esta under the shade of a tree — the friendly connection 
of horse and rider, and all the enlivening contingen- 
cies of solitary travel. I must confess that I could 
not look upon this innovation, due to the foreigner 
who had brought Vera Cruz within four days' journey 
of Mexico, without some degree of abhorrence. I felt 
tliat, under the influence of more rapid communication, 
the ancient appearance of Mexico was beginning to 
alter. I groaned and chafed like an antiquarian who 
sees rude hands defacing some rare and ancient medal. 
The establishment of this new kind of conveyance in 



218 THE SILVER CONVOY IS ORGANIZED. 

Mexico had been attended with annoyances of a most 
dangerous character. Well-organized bands of rob- 
bers turned the innovation to account, and not a dili- 
gence passed without being pillaged. The remem- 
brances of my ancient relations with the Mexican sal- 
teadores, ordinarily so courteous to every traveler un- 
encumbered with baggage, rendered the prospect of a 
similar humiliation very disagreeable. " The pillaging 
part of the business was not a thing at all to my mind ; 
besides, the idea of passing several days in a close car- 
riage, drawn by four swift steeds, and bounding over 
a Mexican road rutted by heavy rains, and covered 
with large pieces of rock, was a mode of traveling not 
at all in accordance with my habits and tastes. 

A mere accident caused me to decide what course 
to follow. Several merchants in Mexico, profiting by 
one of those political lulls so rare in the republic, were 
about to send a rich convoy of silver (conducta da 
2)latas) to Vera Cruz. Some muleteers were loading 
their mules with sacks of piastres, inclosed in little 
wooden boxes, in the great court of one of the houses 
in the street of Monterilla, where I lived. The sight 
of these preparations had drawn a great crowd of spec- 
tators around the gate, myself among the rest. When 
the mules had received their precious burden, they all 
instinctively huddled together in a corner of the court. 
A score of mozos de mulas (stable-helpers) kept up a 
running fire of oaths while at their work. Under the 
archway of the court the arriero* brought matters to 
a close by signing the bills of lading, and invoking the 
Virgin and all the saints to give him a safe and suc- 
cessful trip, every now and then stopping to scold the 
helpers. In the street, the multitude speculated on 

* A kind of farmer. 



CONVEKSATION OP THE LEPEEOS. 219 

the possibility of such a rich lading surviving the per- 
ils of a long and dangerous road, while the greatest 
part of the spectators in tatters did not take the least 
pains to conceal their real sentiments. 

" Canario /" said a lepero, covering a breast seamed 
with scars with a cloak almost torn to ribbons, "if I 
had onlj a beast like the one that cavalier has between 
his legs !" 

And he eyed a horse, black as jet, which a ranchero 
was riding. The animal, tightly reined in by his 
rider, champed his bit furiously, and threw the foam 
to the right and left. I could not help admiring the 
beauty of the horse, and remarking at the same time 
the firm but easy seat of the cavalier, who seemed to 
manage his steed only by his own will, a quality pos- 
sessed in the highest degree by the gentlemen of 
Mexico. 

" Well ! what would you do if you had, Gregorito?" 
asked one of his companions. 

" Canario ! I would accompany the conducta to a 
spot on the road I know well ; and though, as you are 
well aware, I am no braggart, I should count myself 
very unlucky if one or two such loads did not fall to 
my share." 

"One or two loads, Gregorito!" said the other, in 
a tone of surprise. 

" Yes, three loads at most. You know I never had 
very much ambition, but the horseman there seems to 
have even less than I." 

The ranchero, in appearance at least, looked on the 
whole convoy with disdain, but what was passing 
through his mind it was impossible to tell from his 
face. 

Meanwhile a squadron of lancers, designed to serve 



220 SUSPICIOUS CONDUCT OP THE LEPEEO. 

as an escort, liad great difficulty in keeping the crowd 
out of the court, among whom Gregorito was one of 
the most modest in the expression of his desires. The 
fluttering rags of the leperos, and the waving pennons 
at the points of their lances, formed a curious contrast. 
The loading was at length completed, the last mule 
left the court, and the detachment formed up to accom- 
pany the convoy. The crowd gradually melted away, 
and at last only the ranchero remained, who appeared 
to be counting the mules with care, besides eyeing at- 
tentively every individual mozo. At last the ranchero 
began to put his horse in motion. At this moment 
the lepero Gregorito approached him, and begged him 
to allow him to light his cigarette at his. A long and 
animated conversation, in a low tone, took place be- 
tween the two men, but I paid little heed to an inci- 
dent which appeared to me so insignificant. I left the 
place, and went home. 

The sight of the convoy awakened in me a desire 
which I was not long in putting into execution. The 
departure of the convoy, whose escort I could easily 
join, vrould furnish me with the only opportixnity I 
should ever have, not only of escaping the ennui of a 
diligence, but also of satiating my curiosity by explor- 
ing, in perfect security and by short stages, the long 
route between Mexico and Yera Cruz. The loaded 
mules would travel but slowly, and I could easily re- 
join them, even though they were at several leagues 
distance from Mexico — thanks to the proved swiftness 
of my horse — so as to allow me a couple of days even 
to bid farewell to my friends. I began in all haste to 
make the necessary preparations for departure. My 
first object was to procure a horse for my servant. He 
had been so ill mounted during our long journey while 



I PROCURE A HORSE FOR MY SERVANT. 221 

searching for, and flying from, the bravo, that liis horse 
had broken down entirely after we re-entered Mexico, 
and I had ordered him to replace it by another. As 
for my own steed, one of those I had brought with me 
from the hacienda of JSToria, he nobly justified the name 
of Storm which I had given him ; the strength and 
vigor which his free life in the desert had produced 
rendered him fit to endure the hardest fatigues. 

Cecilio went about the business immediately. I 
told him that economy was to be considered in the 
purchase, but the fellow did not conform too scrupu- 
lously to my instructions. A few hours afterward he 
came to tell me that a picador, one of his friends, had 
a horse to dispose of which seemed to come up to my 
standard. In a few minutes, a sorry hack, of a dun 
color, with hanging head and tottering legs, that ap- 
parently had escaped from the bull-ring, came slowly 
into the court. I almost screamed when the picador, 
with matchless effrontery, asked ten piastres for the 
miserable brute ; but, considering that the only time 
on which we needed to travel rapidly would be in join- 
ing the convoy, and that afterward short stages would 
be the rule, I consented to the purchase. The picador 
and Cecilio, seeing my impatience, began to expatiate 
on the noble qualities that lay hidden beneath the 
miserable skin of the wretched beast, and I paid the 
knave the sum he demanded, knowing well that my 
honest va,let would partake in the plunder with the 
picador. 

All my preparations being made, I determined to 
set out next morning; but a series of unforeseen 
events retarded my departure for several days. The 
time for sending this rich convoy of silver to Vera 
Cruz appeared to have been ill chosen. A dull, vague 



222 GENERAL DON ANASTASIO BUSTAMENTE. 

feeling of imeasiness weighed on all men's minds. 
The most alarming symptoms of an imminent politi- 
cal storm were apparent. Even on the very day after 
the convoy had left Mexico, it was universally regret- 
ted that a lading so valuable had heen exposed to the 
dangers of a long road at this conjuncture, and several 
circumstances, it must Tbe owned, justified these fears. 
General Don Anastasio Bustamente — after losing in 
Europe, in learned retirement, the remembrance of his 
country's misfortunes — had returned, and assumed the 
presidency of the republic. If disinterestedness and 
probity, joined to ardent patriotism, were sufficient to 
govern a great state, Bustamente was the man for Mex- 
ico. Like almost all the generals who have attained 
to power in Mexico, it was in the war of independence 
that he showed what he was capable of performing. 
A devoted friend and partisan of the Emperor Itur- 
bide, he had taxed Santa Anna with the blackest in- 
gratitude in commencing his military career by revolt- 
ing against the one who had raised him from obscu- 
rity. This was the commencement of that personal 
enmity which still subsists between the two generals. 
During the time I was at Mexico, Santa Anna could 
not be prevailed on to forgive Bustamente for having 
forestalled him in the presidency. For three years 
Bustamente had been subjected to many trials. Two 
years had scarcely elapsed since the taking of Vera 
Cruz by the French, and ah-eady the emptiness of the 
public treasury had compelled Congress to impose an 
additional duty of fifteen per cent, upon imports. 
Commerce languished by this measure. The decision 
of Congress only augmented its sufferings. A gen- 
eral bad feeling began to gain ground in the state, 
which, to all accustomed to the march of political 



MY PRECAUTIONS AGAINST ASSASSINATION. 223 

events in Mexico, seemed likely to be employed to the 
disadvantage of the existing government. Events 
were not long' in confirming the justice of these fore- 
bodings. 

The reader may not, perhaps, have forgotten a cer- 
tain lieutenant Don Bias, whom I had met at the ven- 
ta of Arroyo Zarco, and had left seated at table with 
the bravo, Don Tomas Verduzco. The slight degree 
of acquaintanceship which I had with this officer nev- 
er occurred to my mind without recalling to memory 
the mysterious relations which seemed to exist be- 
tween him and a man who I had every reason to 
believe was my mortal enemy. Since my last meet- 
ing with Don Tomas I had been under a continual ap- 
prehension, but too well justified by the known ante- 
cedents of this ruffian. 

I had, I believed, taken every precaution against an 
attack which would, according to all appearance, be 
made in the dark. Besides, I had conformed to the 
rules of the strictest prudence by restricting myself 
only to short walks from my place of abode. The 
porter of my house was an old soldier of the wars of 
independence, a brave and honorable man, who never 
showed more vigilance than when he was intoxicated. 
The result was, that the house could not have been 
better guarded. I was, it is true, the first victim of 
this excess of precaution on his part, for it was not 
without the greatest difficulty that, on one occasion, I 
prevailed upon him to unlock the iron chain that held 
together the two leaves of the entrance gate. 

The Angelus was still sounding from all the church- 
es in Mexico when, returning from a gallop on the 
Paseo, I rode through the streets, as I fancied, for the 
last time. Night was coming on when I gained my 



224 _ A MEXICAN SOLDIER. 

lodging, and it was not without a longer parley than 
ordinary with the old porter that I succeeded in gain- 
ing admittance. Leaning against the wall to steady 
himself and keep up appearances, the brave man, with 
a bayonet in his hand, contented himself by jerking 
his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of a sol- 
dier, who, seated on one of the stone benches of the 
vestibule, rose up eagerly at my approach. A peakless 
shako, too small for the head it covered, tottered on 
the top of a dense thatch of thick yellow hair. A uni- 
form coat of thick cloth, and a pair of trowsers as 
large as the shako was small; shoes, whose upper 
leather had long parted company from the sole, not 
only allowing the toes to be seen, but also ventilating 
on the most approved principles the wearer's feet, and 
a complexion of a bright copper color, all served to 
stamp the man as a lepero who had been torn away, 
by the exigencies of the service, from following his 
profession of sleeping in the sun on the pavement. 
However, a sort of picaresque and arrogant bearing 
about the fellow showed that he was not insensible to 
his profession, and to the splendor of his military 
dress. The soldier, who was the asistente of Don 
Bias, had been sent by him with a letter to me. I 
recognized, in fact, his handwriting. The note ran 
thus : 

"My deae Feiend, — I have just read with much 
emotion, in a French novel that you lately lent me, a 
story of two friends, who, when in need, aided one an- 
other with their purse and their sword. As I require 
some money at present, I should be obliged by your 
sending with the bearer, in whom I have every con- 
fidence, an ounce of gold, which I shall restore to you 



LIEUTENANT DON BLAS'S ASSURANCE. 225 

on the first opportunity. I can tell you that this will 
be a service with which the country will be as well 
pleased as your devoted friend and servant, 
" Q. S. M. B.,* 

"Blas P . 

"P.S. — On reflection, if you will bring the ounce 
of gold yourself, it will be better ; and, to imitate the 
devotion of those friends whose story has made such 
an impression upon me, I offer you my sword." 

I thought, as the lieutenant did, that the ounce of 
gold would have a greater chance of coming into his 
hands if I carried it myself. 

" Where is your officer?" I inquired of the soldier. 

"At the Guadaloupe gate." 

" It is a pity," I said, " that the oracion has sound- 
ed, as we can not now ride thither." 

"If it is the intention of your lordship to accompa- 
ny me, as my captain said you might," the messenger 
replied, "he recommended you to go on foot." 

In spite of the great honor that would accrue to me 
by rendering this service to the Mexican nation, I 
could not hide from myself that I would have^ the 
worst of it in this chivalrous exchange of purse and 
sword. However, the desire of knowing from the 
mouth of Don Bias how much I ought to fear the re- 
sentment of the bravo with whom chance had brought 
me acquainted, determined me not to allow this op- 
portunity to escape. I took time only to throw a 
cloak over my shoulders, and hide my pistols under 
my coat. I then set out, followed by the soldier. 
Still, I took care, while passing through the town — 
which became more and more solitary as we approach- 
* Que S71.1 manos besa. — Lit., he who kisses your hands. 
K 2 



226 I MEET TPIE LIEUTENANT. 

ed the suburbs— to walk in the middle of the road, as 
well to see all who were approaching, as to avoid the 
angles in the wall that might shelter ambuscades. I 
arrived without accident at the Guadaloupe gate, some- 
times smiling at my terrors, sometimes shuddering at 
some sudden noise. The night was very dark, and 
the July rains were already announced by a thick fog, 
flie moisture of which rendered the pavement slippery. 

" Shall we soon be there ?" I asked of the soldier, 
when we came to the gate. 

"Immediately," he replied. 

A drizzling rain succeeded the fog. We soon ar- 
rived at a road which ran between the lakes, without 
the soldier showing any signs of having reached the 
end of his journey. A thick mist, which hovered over 
the water, hid the two snowy peaks of the volcanoes 
which cap the Cordilleras. At last I perceived at 
some distance the lighted windows of a small house, 
and very soon a confused sound of voices reached my 
oar. Arrived at the house, the soldier tapped with his 
bayonet, and the door opened. He entered first with- 
out any ceremony, and motioned me to follow him. 
Under any other circumstances, I should have seen 
nothing very extraordinary in this invitation ; but my 
Ideas having been running on ambuscades for the last 
month, I hesitated about penetrating into such a cut- 
throat looking place. A voice that I knew put an end 
to my hesitation : it was that of the Lieutenant Don 
Bias, who was conversing with his asistente about the 
result of his mission. All my fears then vanished, and 
[ entered. At the same time Don Bias sprang to 
meet me, and pressed me in his arms with all a Mex- 
ican's warmth. After the first compliments had pass- 
<^d, he led me through a room (crowded with men of 



OUK CONVERSATION. 227 

all grades), a kind of vestibule, into a spacious hall, 
where some individuals of a higher rank sat round half 
a dozen tables, drinking and gambling. They all ap- 
peared to be military men, judging at least from their 
mustaches, and Don Bias himself bore no other insig- 
nia of his rank than a round jacket, decorated with a 
sort of epaulet on each shoulder, denoting only the bre- 
vet captain. We sat down at a table by ourselves. 
The men looked at me in a way that was not altogeth- 
er pleasant or comfortable. 

"He is a friend," Don Bias said, hastily; "he won't 
betray us." 

I I had the best of reasons for being discreet on such 
an occasion, and made no remark upon the words of 
the lieutenant. We were served with an infusion of 
tamarind with a strong dash of brandy in it ; I then 
asked him, " How comes it that you did not, in per- 
son, ask for the favor you expected from me ? You 
would have saved me a long walk, and a return home 
alone in the dark." 

"I am going to reply to your question," said the 
lieutenant, stretching out his hand for the ounce of 
gold, and putting it into his pocket. " The reason 
why I have given you so much trouble is that I am 
kept here as a kind of pledge for the money I owe ; as 
for you, you will return home at daybreak in the com- 
pany of your very devoted servant." 

"Does that mean that I am to be kept here as a 
kind of pledge also ?" 

" Not at all ; but certain affairs will happen, two 
Hours hence, which will prevent you from returning. 
At present I can tell you nothing farther." 

Such a disclosure as this opened a wide field for 
conjecture ; but I wished, at the moment, to obtain 



228 SUBTEEFUGE OF THE LIEUTENANT. 

some information regarding an affair which touched me 
more nearly. 

"You were good enough," said I to the lieutenant, 
"to place yourself at my disposal in exchange for the 
small favor that I was able to render you, and doubt- 
less you will be happy to learn that a very important 
conjuncture makes it necessary for me to ask the as- 
sistance of your valorous sword." 

A cloud came over the hitherto smiling face of Don 
Bias, and I fancied that the lieutenant never thought 
that he was so soon to be taken at his word. How- 
ever, he promptly recovered himself, and cried, " Play 
is an unfortunate thing ! Caramba ! my sword is in 
pledge with the rest of my accoutrements ; but what 
have you done to need the loan of mine ?" 

"It is your strong right arm, and not your sword, 
that I require," I replied, smiling at the evasive sub- 
terfuge of the lieutenant. " The sword of the Cid 
would be useless in my hands against an enemy so 
formidable as — " 

" Speak lower," said Don Bias, interrupting me and 
twirling his mustache ; " my rash bravery is well 
known here. All are aware that danger electrifies me, 
and it might be feared that I had lent for another mo- 
tive the weight of that arm which belongs to my coun- 
try alone." 

The hectoring air of the officer made no impression 
upon me ; but I had no wish to turn what was intend- 
ed only for a joke into something more serious. I de- 
sired only to know if the bravo had made me the sub- 
ject of conversation after my departure from the room 
on that night I happened to be at Arroyo Zarco, and 
it eased me not a little to hear that he had asked not 
a single question about me. 



AVHY MEXICO IS UNPEOaRESSIVE. 229' 

At this moment the gallop of a horse rang on the 
stone causeway, and almost at the same moment a 
young lad, about fifteen years of age, bounced into the 
room. By his military cap — a kind of beret, orna- 
mented with a profusion of gold lace, as well as his 
uniform — I immediately discovered that he was a ca- 
dete (cadet). 

"Every thing goes on swimmingly, gentlemen," 
cried he; "the colonel is coming to receive his gen- 
eral's commission. This evening his division reach- 
ed Cordova. Valencia is advancing. In three days 
we, shall be masters of Mexico, and then I shall be 
alferez /" 

All in the room sprang to their feet ; and I asked the 
lieutenant, by a motion of my eye, what I should do. 

"Doyoa still wish to leave?" 

It was evident that I was witnessing the first act 
of some new revolution which was about to take place, 
and that I was a spectator of some of those little scene" 
which serve as the prelude to some grand event. 

Among the numerous causes which have tended to 
exhaust the public exchequer in Mexico, and con- 
tributed to isolate the country from European prog- 
ress, the most deplorable and the most striking are, 
without contradiction, those which prevail in the mil- 
itary executive. In a country whose geographical po- 
sition efiectually preserves it from all rivalry with 
neighboring nations, the array was, it may be said, 
disbanded at the declaration of independence, but in a 
short time afterward it sprang again into existence. 
Unhappily, the heads of the new republic only looked 
to that power as an instrument for executing its own 
ambitious designs. Since then, a warlike mania has 
seized a people that had been pacifically disposed for 



230 THE MEXICAN OFFICER. 

three hundred years, and gradually the army had be- 
come accustomed to decide upon and settle all politi- 
cal questions. The result of this warlike transforma- 
tion is well known. To-day the pettiest Mexican of- 
ficer fancies himself called on, not by a political con- 
viction, but only by his own ambition, to protect or to 
overturn the established government. It would seem, 
as one might say, that an article of the Constitution 
gives to every one the right of becoming a colonel. 

Accustomed since infancy to trample under foot all 
civil institutions, the cadet, transformed into an officer 
almost before the age of reason, and the soldier of for- 
tune, to whom a long series of jpronunciamentos^ in 
which he has taken part, has given a commission, have 
both in view the same design, a rapid promotion by 
the same way, that of insurrection. Liable to be 
broken at every instant by a sudden change in the 
government, the officers have no hope of obtaining a 
higher grade but by their swords. Then, according 
to the fortunes of civil war, the officer who has fought 
his way to a higher rank, or who has seen the banner 
under which he fought leveled with the dust, has no 
more chance of getting his pay from the new govern- 
ment than he had from the old. He thus constitutes 
himself a creditor of the state till some stray bullet 
closes his account forever, or till the time when he can 
dip his fingers into the public purse, and become a 
permanent debtor of those who have outstripped him 
in his career. However, although the vicissitudes to 
which the country has been subjected are numberless, 
it is the exception, and not the rule, if the officer ar- 
rive at the head of affairs ; his life, in such a case, be- 
comes only a continual series of annoyances. Then, 
a revolutionist by ambition — a gambler by nature — a 



AN APPROACHING INSURRECTION. 231 

contrabandist on occasion — a knave by necessity — a 
remendon de volujitades* when in want, the officer 
practices every trade, deals in all sorts of merchandise, 
and becomes at last more an object of pity than blame ; 
for he knows nothing of business, and his country nev- 
er has paid him for any service he has rendered her, 
not even though he may have shed his best blood in 
her behalf. 

The news of an approaching insurrection was doubt- 
less soon communicated to the men in the other room, 
for a deafening din drowned the general hurrah, in 
which cries of Santa Anna forever ! Death to Busta- 
mente ! Down with Congress, and fifteen per cent. ! 
and others, of a like import, were shouted, and which 
will always find an echo in the hearts of people still 
too young to know what true liberty is. When si- 
lence had been re-established, I questioned my friend 
the lieutenant about the political movement ; but in a 
hurried tone, "Tut!" he replied; "here you must 
seem to know nothing. I shall make you acquainted 
with every thing afterward. For the moment, I have 
nothing more pressing than to pay my score and go 
away. You must know that the country is as much 
your debtor as if the debt had been committed to writ- 
ing, for its safety is concerned in the liberty of my 
person." ' 

" About two such debtors I need have no fear," I 
said, gravely ; " but how comes it that a mere civilian 
has dared to place an embargo on a military man ?" 

"Alas!" replied Don Bias, in a melancholy tone, 
" one must borrow wherever one can. The misfor- 
tune is, that this inn is kept by an officer, and I only 
learned that when, enchanted with the credit I re- 
* Lit., Humorer of caprices. 



^Bia.-^ 



232 METAMORPHOSIS OF JUANITO. 

ceived here, I had used the place as if the owner had 
been a civilian." 

That the inn was kept by an officer was not at all 
astonishing to one, like me, well acquainted with Mex- 
ican manners, but that an officer had ventured to give 
credit to a comrade appeared a piece of the most inex- 
plicable rashness. 

" Plalloo ! Juanito," cried the lieutenant to his asis- 
tente. The man soon made his appearance in a cos- 
tume still more picturesque than the one I had seen 
him wear an hour before. His peakless shako still 
trembled on the top of his frightful mop of hair, but 
lie had donned the horseman's jacket instead of the 
foot-soldier's coat ; and it being too short for him, a 
large portion of his copper skin was exposed to view 
above the waistband of his trowsers. The fellow was 
evidently in a bad humor. 

" What's the matter, muchacho T'' asked Don Bias. 

" The deuce !" cried Juanito, sharply ; " you called 
me away at the very moment I was going to receive a 
dragoon's helmet for my shako ; and who do you think 
would be pleased with that?" 

" Request the huesped to come here," said Don Bias, 
affecting not to perceive the rough reply of the soldier. 

Juanito wheeled half round, and went out without 
saying a word. 

"That is a man devoted to my interests, and I over- 
look the liberties he takes in consideration of his de- 
votion," remarked the lieutenant, by way of apology ; 
" devotedness is such a rare thing in this world." 

The host was not long in appearing, and I imme- 
diately explained to him the position in which the lieu- 
tenant stood. The huesped was a man of Herculean 
proportions, with broad shoulders and a florid com- 



DON BLAS PAYS HIS DEBT. 233 

plexion. He sported a formidable pair of mustaches 
curled up at the ends. In a word, he had quite the 
appearance of a valento (buUj) of the first class. 

"How much do I owe you?" inquired Don Bias; 
"for it is always a pleasure to me to pay my debts." 

" The fact is, if the rarity of the pleasure doubles 
the value of it, the payment of a debt ought to be a 
perfect treat to you," replied the host : "you owe me 
fifteen piastres and a half." 

" Fifteen piastres and a half!" cried the lieutenant, 
jumping up hurriedly ; " demonio !" 

And, handing the colonel the ounce of gold that he 
had newly received from me, he received in return 
change to the amount of four reals. 

" Caramba ! colonel, you will give me a real more, I 
hope," said the debtor, in a suppliant tone. 

The host turned a deaf ear to this demand, and tak- 
ing from a press the sword and helmet of the lieuten- 
ant, he gave them to him, saying, " Take notice that 
I charge you nothing for the trouble I have been at in 
retaining these articles in pledge for two days." 

The debt of Don Bias having been thus satisfac- 
torily arranged, he proposed a walk with me upon the 
road. I unhesitatingly attributed this proposition to 
the desire of making use of the liberty he had now ac- 
quired, but I was soon undeceived. The lieutenant 
exchanged some words in a low tone with the other 
officers in the hall, and went out, promising to let 
them know every thing he saw or heard. I hastened 
to follow him ; for, in spite of the curiosity that pos- 
sessed me, I could not hide from myself the fact that 
the place for a foreigner was not in the centre of a 
band of conspirators, whatever their private opinions 
on other points might be. 



234 NIGHT IN THE ENYIEONS. 

The rain had ceased. A thick mist still covered 
the surface of both lakes, but their still waters already 
reflected in their bosom a sky less sombre than before. 
The volcano of Popocatapetl was still shrouded in 
mist, while the snow of the neighboring mountain 
sparkled in the gentle light of the moon. By her un- 
certain light the White Woman (Iztaczihuatl) looked 
more like one of the pale Scandinavian divinities un- 
der a northern sky than an American nymph reclining 
under that of the tropics. The lights of the town 
went out one after the other, and a deep silence 
reigned around. A confused noise, however, like the 
wind agitating the reeds in the lake, at times came 
stealing upon our ears. 

" Come on," said Don Bias to me ; " it is close upon 
the hour, and I am astonished that I have seen noth- 
ing yet." 

"What are you waiting for?" I asked. 

"You will soon see; come on." 

After walking for about a quarter of an hour, the in- 
distinct noise which broke the stillness of the night 
soon resolved itself into the tramp of a body of horse. 
The sounds were deadened by the damp air, and the 
soft, moist earth on which they moved. It was doubt- 
less a troop of cavalry on march. A dark mass was 
not long, in fact, in advancing. 

" Who goes there ?" cried one of the leaders. 

"Friends!" replied Don Bias. 

" Que gente V asked the same voice. 

'■''Mexico!'''' was the lieutenant's reply. He de- 
manded, in his turn, where the division had come 
from. 

"From Cordova," answered the same voice. 

The troop passed, and we remained in the same 



DESCEIPTION OP SANTA ANNA. 235 

place. A little after, a second troop, and then a third, 
came in sight, and made the same replies, and after- 
ward continued their march to Mexico. I saw noth- 
ing, however, in these men but ordinary travelers, for 
there was little in their bearing that betokened them 
as regular troops, when some distant lights sparkled 
in the midst of the fog, and I fancied I heard repeat- 
ed vivas ; this was another band advancing. In the 
centre, and clearly seen by the light of the torches, 
rode two officers on fiery horses, in the costume of 
country gentlemen — half military, half civilian. The 
superior officer had a physiognomy and mien which 
struck me forcibly, and awoke in my mind a feeling 
of curiosity and vague remembrance. He was a man 
apparently about forty-five years of age, of a lofty and 
commanding aspect, and swarthy complexion. A high 
forehead, which his hat but imperfectly concealed, and 
a rounded chin, perhaps too large for the perfect regu- 
larity of his features, denoted obstinacy and resolution ; 
a nose slightly aquiline, great black eyeS full of ex- 
pression, and flexible lips, stamped him with an air of 
haughty nobility ; his strong black curly hair flowed 
over his temples, and shaded his high cheek-bones. 
I remarked, also, that his bridle hand was mutilated. 

Don Bias made a gesture of surprise, and, scarcely 
giving himself time to reply to the countersign which 
was asked of him, bounded toward the officer on horse- 
back. 

" Your excellency ought not to forget that we are 
within a short distance of Mexico," said he, uncover- 
ing respectfully, " and prudence requires that you 
come no nearer." 

"Ah I is it you. Captain Don Bias ?" said the cav- 
alier, stopping his horse ; " I am very glad to see you 



236 DON ANTONIO LOPEZ SANTA ANNA. 

among us." Then, addressing himself to his cortege, 
"You know well, sefiores," said he, " that the pleasure 
I feel in finding myself once more among you has 
caused me to forget my own safety ; but the time is 
not far distant, I hope, when I shall come again, and 
find there," pointing to Mexico, '.' none but brothers 
and friends." 

After this speech he wheeled his horse half round, 
and I tiould see that it was a wooden leg which rested 
in the right stirrup. A general hurrah followed his 
last words. The torches were hurled far into the 
lake, and went out with a hiss, and all again was dark, 
but not before I had recognized in the cavalier who 
was conversing with Don Bias the man who for twen- 
ty-five years had been the evil genius of Mexico, the 
cause and fomenter of all its revolutions — in one word, 
General Don Antonio Lopez Santa Anna. 



CHAPTER II. 

The Colonel Tnn-keeper. — Sharp Fighting in the Streets of Mexico. — 
General Bustamente, President of the Republic. 

The lieutenant and I remained alone. I asked him 
to give me some explanation regarding the scenes of 
which I had been a witness. He very eagerly gave 
me some account of the discontent that prevailed 
among all classes, caused by the import duty of fifteen 
per cent. It was, in fact, the bad feeling which arose 
from this that had furnished the pretext for the new 
^ronunciamento. The numerous pedestrians we had 
met on the way to Mexico were part of a regiment of 
cavalry in garrison near the city. Don Bias had been 
urged to entice them into the service of Santa Anna, 



THE PEOTECTION OF THE CONVOY. 237 

with the promise, if successful, of getting a commis- 
sion as captain of cavahry. I then comprehended how 
the asistente of Don Bias had shown so much eager- 
ness in procuring a cavalrj uniform. Advantage had 
been taken by the partisans of Santa Anna of intro- 
ducing the regiment which had been gained over into 
the town in a civil dress, a thing of very easy execu- 
tion, as the difference between the civil and miHtary 
costume in Mexico is very small. 

On returning to the inn, the lieutenant recounted 
all that had passed to the officers assembled, who had 
taken the initiative with their soldiers. They then 
adjourned, as the project for which they had been wait- 
ing had been realized, and the officers rose to make 
their way, one by one, into the town. Don Bias and 
I, like the rest, set out on foot for the same place. 
The soldiers passed in small scattered bands through 
different gates. 

On the way, I pointed out to the future captain the 
fears that I entertained about the fate of the convoy 
of silver, exposed, as it were, to the attack of the in- 
surgents. 

" May I ask if you have any interest in that ?" said 
he, sharply. 

" None at all ; but the pillage of the convoy would 
entail considerable loss on some of my countrymen." 

" There's no fear of that ; a powerful but hidden 
protection is extended over the convoy. An extraor- 
dinary courier, that left town this morning, has seen 
it put into a place of safety. The chief muleteer will 
wait for the conclusion of events ; and the escort has 
been intrusted to the command of a brave and faith- 
ful man. Why, I take as lively an interest in it as 
yourself." 



238 TROOPS MARCH UPON MEXICO. 

" And for what reason ?" I asked, astonished. 

" Because we do not wish a crime to sully the glory 
of this coming revolution. And, besides, I am to be 
the commander of the escort of the conducta.^'' 

I could hardly explain the heat with which the 
lieutenant spoke of a piece of business that seemed to 
offer no apparent advantage to him. But, without 
asking any more questions, I contented myself by tell- 
ing him of the project that I had entertained of join- 
ing the conducta. Don Bias received this news at 
first very coldly ; then, seeing me determined in my 
resolution, he pretended that it would be no bad thing 
to have me for a companion on the road. Unfortu- 
nately, it was impossible yet to fix a day for our de- 
parture ; and many dangers, although Don Bias per- 
haps exaggerated them, menaced the precious convoy. 

Twenty-four hours after our arrival in the town, it 
was rumored that Generals Santa Anna and Valencia 
were advancing at the head of two divisions, to obtain 
redress of those grievances which they affirmed they 
had suffered under Bustamente's government. Events 
now succeeded each other with startling rapidity. A 
few skirmishes, and those not of an unimportant na- 
ture, had already taken place between the government 
troops and the factious, who had advanced to invest 
the Plaza Mayor, and had raised a barricade at the 
corner of the streets San Augustin and Secunda Mon- 
terilla. It was learned afterward, to the general con- 
sternation, that the garrison in the palace, corrupted 
by the rebels, had seized the person of the president 
even in the palace itself. While this conflict was 
raging I heard nothing of Don Bias, but on the morn- 
ing of the day that followed these events, some blows, 
violently struck on the lodge gate of my house, awoke 



HOW A captain's EANK IS GAINED. 239 

me with a start. A few minutes after, the lieutenant 
entered my chamber in a pretty plight. A long beard, 
disordered hair, and a face begrimed with the smoke 
of gunpowder, proved, or at least seemed to prove, that 
he had taken an active part in the engagements of 
yesterday. I congratulated him on his warlike ap- 
pearance. Don Bias received my praises with the air 
of a man who knows his own merit, and informed me, 
with a certain air of importance, that he had come to 
occupy the terrace of my house with a body of his 
men, as it commanded the palace square. 

"I have chosen your house without even asking 
your permission," said he to me, " because it is in the 
neighborhood of the presidential palace, and also to 
show you how a captain's rank is gained. I hope that 
you will follow me to the terrace, where my company 
is already stationed." 

" I shall assist at your triumph with much pleas- 
ure," I said; "and, if you will allow me to dress, I 
shall be very happy to take my place near you ; only 
I must keep out of the way of the balls, as I have not 
the least honor to gain. But you are still in the in- 
fantry, I see." 

" I have very good reasons for making no change 
as yet," replied the lieutenant, with some slight hesi- 
tation. "In a hubbub like this, a horseman is too 
much exposed — he is quite useless, I mean ; and, be- 
sides, how the devil have I the means of purchasing a 
horse?" 

At this moment the door opened, and the helmet of 
a dragoon was shoved in at the aperture. This helmet 
covered the head of the asistente Juanito, who, more 
lucky than his master, had found means, thanks to 
monte, of half transforming himself into a horseman ; 



240 ONLY HALF PRICE FOR CARTRIDGES. 

for all that remained of his former costume was his 
enormous trowsers, in which he seemed every moment 
ready to be ingulfed. 

" Captain," cried the asistente, " if you don't come 
immediately and put yourself at the head of your men, 
some misfortune may happen." 

"What!" said Don Bias, "are vay fellows so im- 
patient to come to blows ?" 

"Oh no," replied Juanito, "they are in no hurry 
for that — rather the contrary ; but upon the terrace of 
the Ayuntamiento, opposite the house of this French 
senor, stands that great rascal of a colonel you know 
— the master of the inn who kept your lordship in 
pledge. He proposes to buy our cartridges of us." 

" And my braves have scouted the idea with indig- 
nation, I am sure ?" 

" They did ; but that was because he only offered 
them half price." 

" Has this d — d colonel, then, betrayed us ?" cried 
the lieutenant. 

" That may be, Senor Captain. I am not in the 
habit of meddling in other people's affairs. The 
colonel has perhaps changed his side for very good 
reasons : who knows ?" 

The officer started after the impassible Juanito, and 
I dressed myself in all haste. I was curious to see 
how, according to the expression of Don Bias, one at- 
tained the rank of captain. When I was almost on 
the last step of the flight of stairs that led to the ter- 
race, I heard the word " Fire" given in a very loud 
voice. I stopped. To my great astonishment, per- 
fect quiet reigned on the roof. A second command 
was no better obeyed ; and it was not till after a third 
that a report followed, but so feeble as to show that 



I EEPAIR TO THE TEEEACE. 241 

the cartridges, though only valued at half price, still 
possessed such a value in their eyes as to prevent 
them from being prodigally expended. 

I opened the door of the terrace with all imaginable 
prudence, and stole along, protected by a wall which 
ran round the azotea, and got behind one of the pilas- 
ters, which rose turret-like at regular intervals.* I 
had a telescope in my hand. 

" What are you going to do with that glass ?" in- 
quired Don Bias. 

" Why, I never go to the theatre without my glass 
— not even to a bull-fight. Should I have forgotten 
it when I am come to secure the best place for seeing 
the gigantic efforts of the combatants on both sides." 

The future captain seemed to look with an eye of 
envy upon the place in which I found myself in such 
perfect security. I could clearly discern from my ter- 
race even the quadrangle of the palace and the adja- 
cent streets. The national flag floated no longer from 
the roof of that building, and the president found him- 
self a prisoner in his own abode. At the opposite an- 
gle of the building, through the grated windows of the 
prison, which formed part of the palace, I espied the 
heads of the prisoners, who were furious with excite- 
ment. The troops which had remained faithful to the 
cause of Bustamente were ranged upon the grand 
square, officers went and came, giving their orders, 
and cannon-wheels rumbled upon the pavement, while 
the distant booming of the heavy guns, and the white 
smoke which rose in dense massy clouds behind the 
houses, showed that, in those streets which were hid- 
den from my view, a fierce engagement was going on. 

* Since the time of the Spaniards, these turrets or almenas denoted 
the house of a nobleman. 



242 FIGHTINa IN THE STEEETS. 

I could make out but imperfectly the places where the 
combats were raging ; but, according to Mexican tac- 
tics, the same scenes were repeated on the tops of the 
houses. The fighting on the terraces was on the same 
plan as that pursued in the streets below. The roof 
of the palace was covered with soldiers, forming part 
of the garrison that had been brought over by Santa 
A.nna. These men kept up an incessant fire against 
the troops of the colonel, thus placed between two 
fires ; but the close proximity of Don Bias's detach- 
ment gave him the most serious alarm. 

The lieutenant was just about to command his party 
to fire again, and probably with more success than on 
the two former occasions, when the tall colonel ad- 
vanced to the edge of the azotea to hold a parley; 
and, forming a kind of speaking trumpet with his two 
hands, cried out, '■'- Mxicliackos ! don't you see how 
shabby it is of you to fire upon us in this way ? Ca- 
ramba ! you show little discretion by it. Is it not 
too bad for two to fight against one ? All brave men 
think so." 

"Traitor!" cried the angry lieutenant. 

" Traitor! traitor! You are a pretty fellow, on my 
word, my dear Don Bias ! One does not become a 
traitor for mere pleasure ; and your notions of politics 
appear to be behind the age. Ah ! have you got cav- 
alry on the roof?" cried he, pleasantly, observing the 
gleam of the asistente's helmet in the sun. 

"You have made my soldiers the most insulting 
j)roposals," Don Bias replied. 

"That's true," answered the colonel, "I did. I 
have not offered them a reasonable price for their ca,r- 
tridges, but I am ready to atone for my fault. " 

A general hurrah, which burst from the lieutenant's 



THE LIEUTENANT FALLS. 243 

men, showed that he was regaining the ground he had 
lost. 

" The colonel is no bad reasoner, it appears to me,"' 
said I to Don Bias. 

"His reasons seem solid enough," he answered, 
with the air of .a man who seemed almost convinced; 
"but my duty obliges me to look on him as an enemy." 

Affairs, however, appeared to be drawing to a pacific 
conclusion, when the colonel added, " It is an under- 
stood thing, then, that we do not fire upon each other. 
Besides, what would your captain gain by shooting 
me? He does not owe me a single real." 

This unhappy allusion, which brought to the lieu- 
tenant's mind the disagreeable circumstance that he 
had been held in pledge for a debt of a few piastres, 
kindled anew all his former hatred, and he exclaimed, 
" Death to the enemies of our country ! Fire upon 
the traitors ! " 

His men were astonished at such an unexpected 
order, but they were forced to obey, and the two par- 
ties began to fire at one another with a want of success 
only equaled by their obstinacy. The balls passed 
above my head, and tore through the air with a sharp 
whiz, similar to that produced by thrusting red-hot 
iron into water. Carefully squatting down in an angle 
of the wall, I marked the countenance of Don Bias, 
and I must say that it did not appear quite at ease, 
when a fresh discharge was heard, and the lieutenant 
fell. I ran toward him, but the asistente was before 
me. Don Bias, lying at full length, gave no sign of 
life. I saw Juanito shove several of the soldiers im- 
periously aside, and could not help admiring the fidel- 
ity of this man to his master, when, to my great sur- 
prise, he thrust his hands into the pockets of the lieu- 



244 DON BLAS IS BOKNE OFF. 

tenant's uniform, and drawing them out empty, cried 
out, with an air of disappointment, "Nothing! not a 
real ! How can we expect to be properly commanded 
by officers who have not a single real in their pockets ? 
What if he had on cavalry trowsers ! " 

After such a funeral oration, this devoted servant 
detached the gold epaulet from the lieutenant's shoul- 
der with the utmost coolness, and appropriated it to 
himself by way of consolation. Don Bias breathed 
feebly, opened his eyes, and begged to be conveyed 
from the scene of action. His orders were complied 
with, and four men took him up in their arms. I 
wished to accompany him, to see him laid on my bed 
till his wound could be examined. He objected strong- 
ly to that arrangement ; but I insisted, and made them 
carry him to my chamber. 

"This will not do," said Don Bias to me ; "pow- 
der and shot have no effect on an old soldier like me. 
Go up again, and watch what tui-n matters are taking. 
Victory will be my only cure." 

I obeyed, and returned to the place I had left. 
During my absence the colonel had proposed a cessa- 
tion of hostilities. It had been agreed to, and when I 
regained my former position, both parties were ex- 
changing the most courteous salutations with each 
other. 

The most serious affairs, however, were taking place 
all round us. Reassured by the peaceful attitude of 
the soldiers of Don Bias and the colonel, I could ob-> 
serve more easily the progress of events. The redoubt 
established at the corner of the streets of San Augus- 
tin and Monterilla kept up continual discharges of 
grape-shot, and the road was covered with the dead 
and wounded. Some fell with all the stoicism of the 



CONTINUED EOAE OF THE CANNON. 245 

Indian character, others uttering the most heart-rend- 
ing cries. The latter were principally those whom 
curiosity had drawn to the scene of strife. Farther 
off, in the direction of the barrier of San Lazaro, the 
roar of the cannon was heard without a single pause ; 
while in the street of Tacuba, opposite the palace, a 
battery, established by the insurgent troops, swept the 
square, and made large breaches in the wall which 
surrounded the palace. Masses of rubbish increased 
rapidly, the iron balconies were torn and twisted like 
lianas in an impassable forest, and very soon a large 
portion of the wall tumbled down. Then a man ad- 
vanced boldly to a dismantled window with so firm a 
step as to overawe the crowd. I could distinguish in 
his bold features all the marks of one of those vigor- 
ous natures which a kind of predestination seems to 
push forward for the rude trials of a military life. This 
man was, perhaps, the best citizen in Mexico. I had 
seen General Bustamente too often not to recognize 
him immediately, in spite of the distance which sepa- 
rated us. More grieved, doubtless, at the bloody scenes 
which then filled the city, than careful of his own safe- 
ty, the general addressed to the seditious townsmen 
some words which I could not hear. However, the 
cannon still roared without intermission ; chips of 
stone, struck from the sides of the window, began to 
fly about him in showers ; but the president appeared 
not to heed the danger, which was increasing every 
moment. A new incident drew the general attention. 
The walls of the prison, torn by cannon shot, had 
opened in many places, and I could see the prisoners, 
shouting lustily, creep through the breaches, one after 
the other, in spite of the storm of grape which swept 
the square, and disperse themselves through the streets 



246 A TEUCE. THE COMBAT RECOMMENCES. 

of the town. This completed the anarchy which reign- 
ed at this, moment over the devoted citj. 

These sad scenes were beginning to disgust me, 
when a temporary truce was arranged between the 
combatants. A deep silence succeeded the booming 
of the artillery ; the time had now come for both sides 
to count their dead and to remove the wounded. I 
went to my room, anxious to know how Don Bias was 
getting on, but he was not there, and the bed on which 
I had laid him was very little disarranged. On ques- 
tioning the people of the house, I learned that, at the 
very moment the truce had been proclaimed, he had 
been seen to descend the stairs and go into the street. 
He had probably thought that it would be more rea- 
sonable and prudent of him to see after his much- 
coveted rank of captain than remain quietly in my 
house. Seeing, then, that his wound must have been 
but slight, I went out also. In the streets tliey were 
lifting the wounded, and carrying them into the houses. 
As for the dead, their game had been played out, and 
the pedestrian trod their bodies under foot with the 
coolest indifference. They were already completely 
forgotten. 

On the very next day, however, the combat recom- 
menced, and blood again flowed in the streets. Beat- 
en without being overcome, the executive annulled the 
obnoxious law of fifteen per cent. A full and entire 
amnesty was granted to the insurgents ; and, issuing 
from the gates of the presidential palace, marched, with 
all the honors of war, a body of the factious citizens, 
among whom I recognized, with no small dismay, sev- 
eral convicted felons, notorious in the annals of crime. 
The ruins of fallen masonry which encumbered the 
streets, the blood that had been every where shed, and 



LEAVE-TAKING. — THE LAKES OP MEXICO. 247 

the withdrawal of the obnoxious law, were the deplo- 
rable results of an insurrection which had brought in 
its train twelve days of fighting and anarchy. 



CHAPTER III. 



Departure of the Convoy .^ — Victoriano, the Muleteer. — His sudden Dis- 
appearance. — The Convoy is attacked by Robbers. 

I PURPOSED leaving Mexico now that order appear- 
ed established and commerce had returned to its wont- 
ed channels. I learned that the conducta was already" 
in motion. I still held by my purpose of making part 
of the escort under the command of the Lieutenant 
Don Bias ; and on the morning after a day spent in 
taking leave of my friends, I traversed the streets of 
Mexico for the last time, attended by my valet Cecilio. 

Upon reaching the open country, the joy that had 
talien possession of me at the idea of my speedy re- 
turn to Europe was slightly tinged by a vague feeling 
of sadness. Mexico is still surrounded with lakes as 
in the time of the Conquest ; but the appearance of 
these still waters, traversed by a magnificent road, has 
been completely changed. The time is gone by when 
they bore on their bosom the brigantines of Cortez and 
the pirogues of the ancient inhabitants. Partly les- 
sened by evaporation and partly by drainage, the lakes 
of Mexico preserve nothing of their former splendor. 
The distant report of some sportsman's gun, and the 
wild songs of the Indians, whose pirogues may some- 
times be seen making their way through the bending 
reeds, at rare intervals break the mournful silence 
which broods over the fields in their vicinity. Some 



248 DISTANT VIEW OF MEXICO. 

white aigrets — sitting motionless on the surface of the 
water — white as the flowers of the water-lily, a few 
water-hens, wild ducks, and huge reptiles which shake 
the aquatic plants as they pass, and here and there an 
Indian angler standing up to the middle of his legs in 
water, are the only living beings to be seen in these 
solitudes. The heavens and the mountains are alone 
unchanged ; and the same volcanoes, their tops cover- 
ed with eternal snow, still shoot up aloft into the air 
as they did three hundred years before. 

Having arrived at Buena Yista, which commands a 
view of the whole valley of Mexico, I stopped to take 
a last look of the beautiful plain at my feet. In the 
midst of a belt of blue hills and small villages, whose 
white houses contrasted beautifully with the green of 
the willows, the lakes assumed, owing to the distance, 
something of their ancient glory. Mexico seemed still 
the city of the ISTew World. I stopped for a moment 
to contemplate the distant domes with a feeling of in- 
voluntary dejection. I looked for the last time upon 
a city to which I had come with all the curiosity and 
enthusiasm peculiar to youth. Mexico was my halt- 
ing-place when I returned from my excursions in the 
country round. It was like a second country to me ; 
for, if infancy has its souvenirs dear to that state of 
childhood, youth can not forget the place where the 
flower of adolescence has shot up, and withered, alas I 
too soon. I looked again at this fertile valley, where 
smiles an eternal spring ; and, to escape from the sad- 
ness Avhich possessed me, put my horse to the gallop, 
and the lofty towers of that city which I was never 
more to behold were soon quickly lost to my view. 

After passing a night at the venta of Cordova, my 
road lay through the woods of Rio Trio, so notorious 



TRANSFORMATION OF THE ASISTENTE. 249 

■for the robberies committed there in broad daylight, 
and the smihng phiiiis of San Martin, which strongly 
remind one of tliose of the Bajio. The snowy peaks 
of the volcanoes in the vicinity of Mexico were lighted 
up by the last rays of a sun that sparkled like an ex- 
piring beacon-tire when I rode into Puebla. The con- 
ducta had passed through that town the same evening. 
Puebla, the lofty towers of its convents, churches, and 
cupolas all covered with enameled tiling, looks at a 
distance like an Oriental town overtopped with mina- 
rets. I halted a short time to rest myself, and on the 
third day after my departure from Mexico descried 
from a distance the red pennons of the lancers who es- 
corted the convoy. 

In the first cavalier to whom I addressed myself 
after overtaking the escort I could scarcely recognize 
the asistente of Don Bias. The desires of this worthy 
lepero on becoming a soldier had been completely sat- 
isfied, for, except that he had only a bottine on one 
foot, a shoe on the other, and no straps to his trowsers, 
his cavalry uniform left him nothing to desire. In 
consonance, also, with military discipline, he had part- 
ed with his hair. 

"Tell me, friend," said I, accosting him, "are you 
still in the service of Lieutenant Don Bias ?" 

" Captain Don Bias, if you please^for he has been 
promised this rank as a reward for his heroic conduct 
on your azotea ; and I have got my stripes also now. 
I am his servant no longer. He is a captain in a regi- 
ment of lancers. You see a detachment of them here." 

I proceeded onward, and, in spite of his new uni- 
form, had little difficulty in recognizing Don Bias. 
The captain was riding gloomily at the head of his 
troop. I congratulated him on his promotion, and in- 
L 2 



liJtl 



250 MY CONVERSATION WITH THE CAPTAIN. 

quired about his wound. He reddened slightly Avhen 
he told me it had quite healed, and hurriedly asked 
me if I had counted the cost of traveling with him. I 
assured him it was my unalterable intention to accom- 
pany the convoy to Vera Cruz. Don Bias affected 
much joy at my resolution, after which the conversa- 
tion fell quite naturally upon the dangers of the road, 
the mishaps of which I thought I should escape in his 
company. The captain shook his head. 

" I am not so sure of that," said he. " I fear that 
you are jumping from the frying-pan into the fire, for 
the late troubles have increased the number of gueril- 
las* And folks say that we shall probably have a 
hard fight with the highwaymen in the gorges of the 
Amozoque. The time is gone by when, under a cer- 
tain viceroy, the standard of Castile, floating above a 
silver caravan, was sufficient to protect it in its pas- 
sage." 

"I hope," I replied, " that the troop of lancers un- 
der your command will make up for the want of the 
Spanish flag." 

"God grant it !" returned Don Bias. "Although 
I am not blind to the dangers we shall have to run, I 
shall do my duty in every case." 

The long file of richly-laden mules, each having a 
burden of five thousand dollars in coined money, over 
. every one of which the guardians of the convoy kept 
an incessant watch, was, in fact, a prize worth striking 
a blow for. The road to Mexico presents the most 
striking scenes incident to beauty in landscape, but 
the thick woods, the deep gorges, and the narrow de- 
files which we had to traverse might be swarming with 
robbers. I had scarcely passed a few hours among 

* Bands of robbers 



VICTORIANO, THE MULETEEE. 251 

my new companions ere I began to feel the want of 
some amusement to dissipate the ennui attendant upon 
a slow and monotonous march through a desert coun- 
try. The captain was assuredly a merry companion, 
hut his jokes were trite and commonplace. The sto- 
ries and songs of a muleteer who took the lead in that 
kind of entertainment in our little troop were infinitely 
more agreeable to me. He was a man of about thirty 
years of age, called Victoriano. He had traveled this 
road for several years, and had a story for every halt- 
ing-place. In the evening, under a starry sky, when 
the mules, relieved from their burdens, munched their 
maize under the manias which served them for a rack ; 
when round the bivouac fires the sentinels mounted 
guard over the treasure committed to their care, and 
the other soldiers slept upon their arms, the captain 
and I always had a new pleasure in listening to Vic- 
toriano, whose unflagging spirit found vent in pleasant 
stories, or in songs accompanied by the mandolin. 

I pitied then the travelers I saw whirled along in 
the diligence like a flash of lightning, their horses gal- 
loping at the top of their speed, while the passengers 
very likely would be pointing us out to their friends 
as the only remnant existing of the old Mexican man- 
ners. A few more vices, I said to myself, and a few 
less charms, are the only results of this parody of civ- 
ilization, which, up to the present time, has destroyed 
every thing and constructed nothing. On these even- 
ings, round our watch-fire, living at once the life of a 
muleteer and that of a soldier, I still experienced with- 
out alloy, even though on my way to Europe, the feel- 
ings incident to life in the Eastern deserts. 

Since our departure from Puebla, Acajete, the haci- 
enda of Sfin Jiian. Tppeaca, and Santa G-ertrudis Cfnr 



•_*52 A VISIT TO FEKOTE. DESOLATE SCENE. 

we had deviated from the ordmary route) had been so 
many resting-places, marked by a certain quiet in 
which the fatigue of the body is transferred to the 
mind, and which seems to prove that the happiness of 
a man consists in physical motion as much as in 
thought. We had just passed the town and fort of 
Perote. " Senor Cavalier," said Victoriano to me, 
" you ought to go to see the fort. I can easily ac- 
company you to the gate, and, upon my recommenda- 
tion, you will be admitted without difficulty. You 
can rejoin us afterward at Cruz Blanca, a little village 
about two leagues from here, where we shall pass the 
night, and on your return I shall tell you a story about 
it which made a great noise some years ago." 

I took the advice of the muleteer, who, according to 
promise, introduced me into the fort, the interior of 
which I ran over at my pleasure in the company of an 
officer, who was glad to attend me in the capacity of 
guide. I was about an hour in the place, and, as the 
sun was beginning to set, galloped at full speed to join 
the convoy. 

I passed over one of those arid and desolate plains, 
bristling with volcanic scorige, known by the name of 
inal pais, upon which a scanty layer of earth alloAVS 
only a few stunted plants to grow. The wind, blow- 
ing in sudden gusts, seemed to moan as it struck the 
sonorous leaves of the nopal and the clumps of juni- 
per. The wolves also began to howl frequently, and 
the fog which was falling was so dense and cold that 
I thought I was long in reaching the watch-fire at 
which I expected Victoriano to fulfill his promise. 
However, the fear of losing my way in the fog, which 
hid the horizon, joined to the roughness of the ground, 
forced me to slacken my pace, and night had fallen be- 



DISAPPEAEANCE OF VICTORIA NO. 253 

fore I arrived at our halting-place — Cruz Blanca. In 
the small number of houses which composed the vil- 
lage, it was not difficult to find where the conducta 
had stopped. To my great astonishment, I learned 
that Victoriano had not made his appearance. This 
circumstance had alarmed every body. Some acci- 
dent of a serious nature must have happened to pre- 
vent a man, whose habitual punctuality was well 
known, from rejoining the cavalcade, and every one 
was lost in conjectures as to his absence, when a 
stranger presented himself, and requested to speak 
with the chief arriero. The new-comer was dressed 
in a well-worn stable-coat, and an apron such as is 
generally worn by mule conductors. He told us that 
Yictoriano, whose horse had come down, had been 
much injured by the fall, and that they had conveyed 
him to Perote, where the utmost care would be taken 
of him. The unknown added that it was by his ex- 
press desire that he had come to supply his place till 
he should be in a fit state to rejoin the convoy. The 
chief arriero, who had only the number of men strictly 
necessary, accepted his offer perhaps a little too incon- 
siderately. The new-comer was a stout fellow of 
about the same age as Victoriano, but the sinister ex- 
pression of his countenance did not inspire me with 
the same feeling of confidence as the arriero. 

The next morning we resumed our march, intending 
to pass the night at Hoya, a little village about five 
leagues from Cruz Blanca. The journey, though slow 
as ever, seemed more fatiguing, as Victoriano was not 
there to enliven it with his stories. Every thing seem- 
ed to go wrong after his departure. On arriving at 
Barranca Honda, about a league from where we had 
started in the Tiorning, a mule cast its slice, then a 



'204 MY SUSPICIONS ABOUT THE UNKNOWN. 

second, and afterward a third. Very long halts were 
necessary for re-shoeing the animals. Victoriano's 
substitute acquitted himself as a farrier with great zeal 
and intelligence, to the great delight of the arriero, 
who continued, however, to discharge as many oaths 
as there were saints in the calendar. For my part, I 
must say that I could not look upon our new compan- 
ion with the same satisfaction as the muleteer. 

"Does it not seem to you," said I to Don Bias, 
" that this fellow, who shoes the mules so cleverly, 
might not show an equal address in unshoeing them ?" 

The captain looked on my suspicions as ridiculous. 
"I am perfectly disinterested in the matter," I replied, 
" for, fortunately, none of the precious boxes belong to 
me ; but I can't help regretting the absence of Victo- 
riano." 

The convoy put itself again in motion. Still, al- 
though it was necessary that the pace should be quick- 
ened, the mules appeared to have lost all their former 
energy, as if some enervating drug had been mixed 
with their food. Just when we were passing through 
Las Vigas, the arriero held a sort of conference with 
the chief of the escort. The former advised that we 
should pass the night in the village ; Don Bias, how- 
ever, thought it would be better to push on to Hoya, 
alleging that a delay in a convoy so soon expected in 
Vera Cruz, especially when the stages in advance were 
well known, would tend to spread a prejudicial unea- 
siness. Unluckily for the muleteer, this advice pre- 
vailed, and we resolved to push on to Hoya. 

There is, perhaps, no part of Mexico in which the 
difference between the temperature of the plains and 
that of the more elevated regions is more keenly felt 
than in the approaches to the Vigas. A few seconds 



ANXIETY OF THE AREIERO. 255 

before reaching the village, you were in an instant 
transported into the vegetation peculiar to cold cli- 
mates. There the warm breeze and blue heavens 
were gone, and in their stead a cold north wind blew 
sharply through the icy vapor which floated around 
us. Our eyes met only a dull sky, and an arid soil 
torn up and thickly covered with volcanic boulders. 
The fog, which at first crept along the surface of the 
ground, and rolled about in volumes like dust under 
the feet of our horses, was not long in mounting aloft, 
and hiding from our view the tops of the tall pines. 
We could scarcely distinguish one another in the dense 
mist which the icy wind was driving right in our faces. 
Deep ravines ran parallel with the road, which was of 
volcanic formation, and it was a difficult matter to pre- 
vent the mules from straggling in a path so hard to 
follow. I could not help admiring the calmness of 
Don Bias, the great importance of whose trust abso- 
lutely frightened me. As for the arriero, he was in 
great perplexity, and he galloped incessantly up and 
down the whole length of the convoy, the sparks fly- 
ing from his mule's feet at every stroke. The poor 
man inspired me with a lively interest, for every thing 
he had in life was at stake ; an immense responsibili- 
ty rested upon him, and he counted and recounted his 
mules every minute with an anxiety painful to behold. 
When night had fully come on, Don Bias divided his 
escort into two bodies. With one he rode at the head 
of the convoy, and left the other under the charge of 
Juanito, his ex-asistente. The march was gloomy 
and silent, the chief noise heard being the tinkle of 
the bell of the leading mule, the songs of the soldiers, 
and the clattering of the mules' feet on the stony road. 
Kiding alone on the flank of the convoy, I passed 



256 SOME TREACHERY AT WORK. 

through my mind the various incidents of the morn- 
ing ; the disappearance of our favorite, the unshoeing 
of the mules, and the dull listlessness with which they 
now marched, appeared to me, in the midst of the fog 
which enveloped us, alarming in the highest degree. 
At the very moment I was asking myself if some 
treachery was not at work around us, I was joined by 
my valet Cecilio. 

" Seiior," said Cecilio, in a low voice, "if you will 
believe me, we ought not to stay here a moment lon- 
ger. Something strange is going to happen." 

"And where are we to go," said I, "when we can 
not see two paces before us among these rocks and 
ravines ? But what is the matter ?" 

" The matter is, seiior, that Victoriano has just 
slipped in among us, and perhaps I am the only one 
that has remarked his presence ; but his coming bodes 
no good. The story of his accident appears to be only 
a falsehood." 

" Are you sure of it ?" 

"Yes, quite; but that is not all. About a quarter 
of an hour ago, I was in the rear, as I have been gen- 
erally all the march, owing to this confounded beast 
of mine, when two mounted cavaliers passed without 
seeing me, as I was concealed behind a mass of rock. 
One of them bestrode a magnificent black horse, and 
was otherwise too well equipped for a peaceable trav- 
eler." 

"A magnificent black horse?" I said, interrupting 
him, thinking of the ranchero in Mexico who had look- 
ed so coolly on the departure of the convoy. 

"The other," continued Cecilio, "rode a mule, and 
had the costume of a muleteer ; and, if I rightly un- 
derstood what they said, Yictoriano must be an ac- 
complice." 



THE PLOT THICKENS APACE. 257 

"And what became of the horsemen?" 

" I have no doubt that, under cover of the darkness, 
thej mingled with the escort. It is easy to guess 
whj ; and, probably, they are not alone, for these ra- 
vines could conceal an entire cuadrilla (band). If 
your lordship will be guided by me, we shall let the 
convoy go on without us." 

" JSTot at all," I answered ; " I must go and tell the 
captain." 

" And who told you, seiior, that the captain is not 
also an accomplice ?" 

I made no answer. It was not the time for discus- 
sion, but for acting. Without considering whether 
Cecilio's suspicions of Don Bias were well or ill found- 
ed, I spurred vaj horse to warn at least the chief ar- 
riero. With some trouble I made up to the rear guard, 
passed it and some of the mules, the others still form- 
ing a long line in front. In the midst of the fog I 
was guided by the clank of their hoofs on the rocky 
ground. At last I distinguished the tinkling of the 
leading mule a few hundred yards in advance. At the 
same moment I fancied I recognized in the cavalier by 
my side the sinister countenance of Yictoriano's sub- 
stitute. Some seconds after, the voice of a muleteer 
rose in the darkness. 

" What's the meaning of this ?" cried he. " Hal- 
loo ! Victoriano, is that you ? It is, by heavens ! and 
by what chance ?" 

There was no reply, and the question was not re- 
peated. I shuddered. I thought I heard a stifled 
cry, followed by a heavy fall. I listened again at- 
tentively, but the only sounds were the whistling of 
the wind, and the echo of the mules' feet upon the 
stony road. A few seconds after my horse shied vio- 



258 ENCOUNTER WITH EOBBERS. 

lentlj, as if he had distinguished in the darkness some- 
thing that had alarmed him. Desirous of clearing up 
the terrible doubts that harassed my mind, I took out 
my tinder and steel as if to light a cigar, and to warm 
me by the exercise it afforded. I fancied for a mo- 
ment that I was the sport of a dream. By the mo- 
mentary light it sent forth, I thought I saw some 
strange figures marching along with the soldiers of 
our escort and the muleteers. Silent phantoms seem- 
ed to have glided mysteriously out of the darkness, 
and were traveling along with us, some clad in lancers' 
uniform, others wearing the striped frocks of the mule- 
teers. All at once the bell of the leading mule ceased 
to sound ; in a few seconds it recommenced, but in 
quite a different direction, and similar sounds issued 
from the ravines on the left of the road. I had seen 
enough— nay, too much ; treachery surrounded us on 
every side. But what could one do in the midst of a 
thick fog, and on a road bordered by ravines ? How 
could one distinguish friends from foes in the deep 
gloom ? Astonished and disconcerted, I stopped my 
liorse ; then, at the risk of breaking my neck in the 
darkness, I galloped to the front of the convoy ; it was 
now too late. A cord whistled over my head and en- 
circled me-; my horse made a bound forward ; but, 
instead of being dragged from my saddle, and thrown 
under the animal's feet as I expected, I felt myself 
bound to my horse with a terrible tightness. The 
noose intended for me alone had also enlaced him. My 
right arm was so tightly bound to my body that I could 
not disengage myself sufficiently to allow me to draw 
my knife from my boot to cut the lasso. I dug my 
spurs into my horse's flanks. The noble animal neigh- 
ed, and tore forward with irresistible vigor^ I felt the 



ENCOUNTER WITH ROBBERS. 259 

lasso tighten till it almost cut me, then suddenly slack. 
A snap of broken girths, an imprecation of rage, and 
all at once I found myself free, almost before I could 
fully realize the danger I had escaped. A vigorous 
bound of my horse almost unseated me. I kept my 
saddle, however, and galloped furiously on. Some 
shots were heard, and a ball whistled close to my ears ; 
at the same moment, cries of alarm arose in the dark- 
ness. The repercussion of the firing w^s fearful, and 
the confusion indescribable. The mules, deceived by 
the bells which rang in various directions, ran against 
each other, and jostled one another in the darkness. 
The flashes of the fire-arms tore through the fog, and 
the reports died away among the rocks. By the glare 
of the musketry you. could see the lancers, in their red 
uniforms, huddled together in confusion, and firing 
away at random in the thick darkness ; the balls went 
whistling through the air, and the cries of despair of 
the muleteer were heard distinctly above the din of the 
tumult. 

My frightened horse had carried me far firom the 
scene of combat. I pulled him in immediately and 
returned. When I rejoined the convoy the contest 
was over and the bandits had disappeared. Don 
Bias, who had kept himself very cool during the whole 
afi'air, grasped me silently by the hand. I had no 
time to question him, for a man threw himself between 
us, a torch in his hand, imploring the captain's assist- 
ance. By its light I recognized the discomposed fea- 
tures of the poor muleteer. Some of the soldiers, dis- 
mounting, cut branches off the fir-trees and lighted 
them. We could then survey the sad spectacle which 
met our eyes. The mozos, among whom Victoriano's 
substitute was no longer to be seen, watched the poor 



260 THE CHIEF muleteer's DESPAIR. 

animals that were standing in groups round the lead- 
ing mule, whose bell had disappeared. Several mules 
were bleeding from large wounds : two soldiers, very 
likely hit by the balls of their comrades, were bandag- 
ing their legs with their pocket-handkerchiefs. In a 
shallow ravine, which the torches reddened with a mel- 
ancholy glow, a poor muleteer lay writhing in the 
death agony. This was the man who had recognized 
Yictoriano ; he had expiated the fault of having seen 
too well. The arriero, torch in hand, walked from one 
mule to another, tearing his hair the while, and wiping 
off the sweat, which, in spite of the coldness of the 
night, dropped profusely from his face. " I am lost — 
ruined!" cried the poor devil, who appeared scarcely 
to have sufficient courage to ascertain his precise loss 
with exactness. He commenced, however. Don Bias, 
who seemed very pale even by the reddish glare of 
the torches, sat motionless in his saddle. I scrutin- 
ized his features as I thought over Cecilio's words, 
but nothing in his countenance betrayed the painful 
emotion of a man who, by negligence or misfortune, 
had failed in the execution of his duty. 

"Don't you think," said I to him, "that it would 
be no bad thing to pursue the robbers who have car- 
ried off their booty, and who are every moment increas- 
ing their distance from lis ?" 

Don Bias seemed to wake out of his reverie. 

"Doubtless," he cried, roughly; "but who told 
you that they have carried off any thing ?" 

"Heaven help this poor man!" said I, pointing to 
the muleteer, who uttered a doleful cry. 

"May God pity me!" cried he, "for I shall never 
survive it. Five, Seiior Captain ! five are gone •' " he 
continued, in a choking voice. "I have lost in one 



WE SET OUT IN PUKSUIT. 261 

night the fruit of twenty years' toil I Ah ! Senor 
Don Bias, by the life of your mother, try to recover 
them for me ; the half shall Ipe yours. Ah ! why did 
you advise me to proceed to-night? Why did I listen 
to you ?" 

And the poor muleteer, dashing his torch upon the 
road, rolled in the dust. 

The captain being thus forced to make some repara- 
tion for the misfortune which he had either ignorantly 
or designedly caused, picked out a dozen of his best- 
mounted horsemen, ordered them to cut some pine 
branches to serve for torches, and to commence the 
pursuit without delay. I did not anticipate any very 
successful issue to the expedition, although I had been 
the first to advise him to it. Persuaded, however, that, 
though there was little chance of success, there was 
little risk to be run ; desirous, besides, to witness the 
wonderful sagacity of the Mexicans in following even 
the faintest traces, I insisted upon accompanying Don 
Bias and his band. The captain agreed without much 
difficulty, and we set out immediately for Hoya. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Don Tomas Verduzco is shot by Juanito. — Death of Captain 
Don Bias. 

It was a difficult enterprise on which we had enter- 
ed. Darkness masked the march of the robbers, whose 
trail it would be almost impossible to follow unless 
during daylight, as it led over a volcanic soil. We 
were certain that the stolen mules had not been taken 
in the direction of Perote. From the place where we 
now were, the lights in the village of Hoya were easily 



262 NIGHT ON THE UPLANDS OF THE ViaAS. 

discernible even through the dense fog which stretch- 
ed all round us. The news of our disaster could not 
he long in reaching that place, and the presumption 
was that the robbers were not to be sought for in that 
direction. The ground on the left side of the road was 
impracticable in the darkness, from the large number 
of sloughs and ravines which seamed its surface. There 
was no doubt but that the bandits had gained the 
woody heights on the right which overhung the road, 
and that the pursuit must be begun in that quarter. 
A soldier remarked that the light of our torches would 
betray our presence. We were ignorant of the num- 
ber of our enemies, who could very easily see us from 
the lights we carried, and prudence prompted us to 
hide our motions in darkness. By the captain's order 
we extinguished the flambeaux, not, however, without 
casting a glance over the ground we were going to 
traverse. A steep path led to the crest of a ridge that 
overhung the road. Three of us, of whom I was one, 
remained to point out this particular spot. The rest 
were sent to explore the different paths which were to 
be met with more in advance. We waited in all still- 
ness the return of the exploring party. Thus passed 
some minutes. The winds, sighing through the pines 
which formed a gloomy arch above the hollow road at 
whose mouth we were stationed, shook upon our heads 
the condensed mists which fell drop by drop from their 
sloping branches. At the end of half an hour the 
horsemen returned. They had seen nothing, but they 
were certain that no other path than the one on which 
we were posted led to the high road. If we followed 
it, we would be sure of hitting the right trail. The 
soldiers, animated by the hope of a rich reward, were 
as desirous to begin the pursuit as a pack of dogs to 



THE EOBBEKS' TEACES ARE POUND. 263 

hunt a stag. The captain alone seemed to have no 
heart for the work, and the orders he gave betrayed a 
considerable amount of indecision. We began our 
march, however. Unfortunately, the darkness of the 
night made our progress very slow. At times, and 
during a short halt, one of the horsemen alighted and 
applied his ear to the ground, but not a sound was 
heard but the sighing of the wind. The rocky ground, 
carefully examined by the light of a cigar, seemed in- 
capable of bearing even the slightest impress. Guided, 
however, by an inexplicable instinct, the soldiers did 
not appear to doubt but that the robbers had passed 
that way. The gravel soon ceased to crunch beneath 
our tread ; we were now on softer ground. We had 
at last some chance of discovering the trace of the men 
or animals which had followed that road. Half of us 
alighted, and by the light of our cigars, or sparks from 
flint and steel, began examining with the utmost mi- 
nuteness every bit of moss or bare earth on the path. 
Tracks crossed one another in every direction ; and at 
the end of a few minutes, a soldier uttered a cry of 
joy, and pointed out to us the distinct impress of the 
two feet of a mule. One of the marks showed that 
the animal had been newly shod, from the deeper dent 
made in the soft ground. This was, assuredly, the 
traces of one of the mules of the convoy that we had 
been forced to shoe that very morning. At this time 
we were marching only at random, and our delight at 
this discovery was intense. The trail was followed 
till it conducted us to a vast open clearing, a sort of 
square, from which several paths struck off similar to 
the one we had followed. There we were completely 
at fault. 

A considerable time had now elapsed since we be- 



264 WE RECOVER ONiC OF OUR STOLEN MULES. 

gan our search. The captam, in order to husband our 
horses' strength in case a new and longer pursuit would 
be required, ordered a halt. The different paths, which 
crossed one another in such confusion, could not, he 
said, be properly examined unless by daylight. The 
men began to murmur at this unexpected check ; but 
obedience was necessary, and they all alighted. Some 
large fires were kindled, more for warmth against the 
freezing cold of the night, and to guard against a sud- 
den surprise, than for the light they afforded. As I 
took no great interest in the search, I joyfully wel- 
comed the opportunity I had of warming myself at a 
good fire, and of taking some repose, of which I stood 
in great need. 

After a few minutes' talk, all was silent. The clear- 
ing in which we were bivouacked was illuminated 
throughout its whole extent by the light of our fires. 
Nothing was heard but the rapid and measured step 
of the two sentinels we had posted. Several hours 
rolled away ; our fires were just dying out, and day 
could not be far off, when a cracking of broken branch- 
es was heard at some distance. One of our sentinels, 
his carbine in one hand and a torch in the other, ad- 
vanced to the place whence the noise proceeded, and 
soon reappeared leading a mule, which, from its color, 
and the pack-saddle on his back, was easily recognized 
as one of those that had been stolen from the convoy. 
His broken bridle showed that, after having been de- 
prived of his precious burden, they had tied him up in 
a thicket to prevent our finding him, and that the poor 
beast had only been able to gain our encampment by 
breaking his tether. Every body was soon on foot. 
The woods, perviated every where with paths, unhap- 
pily afforded us no new traces, and we much feared 



SUSPICIOUS CONDUCT OF DON BLAS. 265 

that the robbers had divided their plunder, and gone 
off in a different direction. This thought, which dis- 
couraged us so much, produced quite a different effect 
upon the captain. Up to this time Don Bias had 
seemed to take no interest in the pursuit, but now he 
flew into a violent passion, and uttered the most vio- 
lent menaces against the bandits, whose daring had 
caused us to lose so much. 

" Ah !" cried he, " if chance but throws any of them 
into my hands, I shall shoot them without benefit of 
clergy." 

Speaking thus, Don Bias walked backward and for- 
ward, hitting the ferns which branched out above us 
with his sabre. 

" Whom will you shoot ?" I asked. 

"Whom?" replied the captain; "why, the first 
man that happens to fall into my hands." 
' " That will be a right which it may be difficult to 
exercise, for robbers on the high road have generally 
long arms." 

" That's my concern," answered Don Bias, with a 
strange smile ; "I will find the means to have the law 
on my side." 

The captain immediately gave the word to mount. 
The soldiers, delighted at the prospect of regaining 
their lost time, welcomed the order with acclamation. 
I must confess that I could not account for this sud- 
den change in the conduct of Don Bias. Why so 
much zeal after so much coldness ? I pleased myself 
by thinking that hitherto it had been only in appear- 
ance, and that the captain had shown so much apathy 
at first for the sake of propriety, that it might not be 
thought he was actuated by too lively a desire to gain 
the reward promised by the arriero. 

M 



266 WE SEPARATE INTO TWO BANDS. - 

One of the three paths which led out of the clearhig 
was so narrow, and so little frequented, judging by the 
appearance of the ground, that, according to all ap- 
pearance, it could not lead to any inhabited place. 
The other two were deeply marked with the footprints 
of men and animals. They would very likely lead to 
some hacienda, or rancho at least. According ta the 
conjectures of the soldiers, the least trodden of the 
three paths was that which most probably the robbers 
had taken. Opinion being divided on that point, the 
captain ordered us to separate into two parties, and 
each, taking a particular path, to explore it to the ut- 
most, and two hours after nightfall to rejoin one an- 
other in the clearing. Don Bias placed himself at the 
head of one of these detachments, the other was under 
the command of Juanito. As for myself, I followed 
Don Bias, although he did every thing he could to 
dissuade me from doing so, but I had an instinctive 
notion that he would not be the man to prefer the 
most dangerous road. The path we had taken led us 
toward a wide plain. We soon arrived at an open 
square in the wood whence several roads diverged. 
This was a new embarrassment. Our band, however, 
proceeded in pairs to explore each of these ramifica- 
tions. 

"If this continue," I said to Don Bias, "we shall 
soon be completely separated from one another, and 
be liable to be pursued in our turn by those whom we 
are pursuing." 

Still Don Bias did not think that any danger was 
to be apprehended by this division of our forces. He 
forthwith proceeded to reconnoitre one of these roads, 
and I accompanied him. However, when we had pro- 
ceeded some distance from our companions, his ardor 



THE CAPTAIN SLACKENS HIS PACK 267 

seemed suddenly to cool. He stopped his horse, which 
was before mine, and proceeded to expatiate upon the 
beauty of the landscape with the cool indifference of a 
dissatisfied tourist. The sun had dissipated the mist 
which had till now enwrapped us. The sky was clear 
and without a cloud, and a pleasant warmth soon made 
us forget the sharp and piercing cold of the preceding 
night. A slight perfume of guava, that the wind waft- 
ed along at intervals, was now and then mixed with 
the sharp and pungent odor of the pines. This was 
like a harbinger of the beautiful azure sky of the hot 
regions, and the magnificence of their luxuriant vege- 
tation. We were now separated from the first of our 
party by several miles. 

"I should like to know," said Don Bias to me, after 
a short silence, " how far the audacity of these brig- 
ands would go." 

"That is very clear, it seems to me," I replied, 
"and, since yesterday evening, facts show very strong- 
ly how much they are capable of doing." 

We had not proceeded far till we met with evidence 
which proved to us that we were now on the trail of 
the robbers. Don Bias, seeing some pieces of wood 
lying on the ground, alighted and picked them up. It 
was the remains of one of the little boxes in which the 
sacks of piastres had been packed. He then begged 
me, in spite of my entreaties, to remain where I was ; 
and, wheeling his horse about, set off at full speed. A 
turn in the road soon hid him from my view, and I re- 
mained alone, without being able to explain the reason 
of his singular conduct. A painful suspicion, which 
I had been trying to drive from my mind for some 
time, now recurred to me with redoubled force. Had 
Don Bias really any connivance with those robbers, 



268 THE CAPTAIN SHOT IN THE BEE AST. 

whose presence he wished to seek without a witness ? 
Suddenly a distant shot was heard, which roused me 
from my reflections. I thought I heard likewise a fee- 
ble cry of alarm and distress. I listened, but every 
thing was calm and silent round me. Prudence urged 
me to retrace my steps. The captain might be killed ; 
if still alive, dangerously wounded. In these two 
cases I could be of no assistance ; but I resolved to 
return to procure help. Having come to the place 
where Don Bias and I had separated from our com- 
panions some time before, I discharged my two pistols 
in succession. I soon had the satisfaction of being 
rejoined by two of our men, whom I informed in a few 
words of what had passed. 

"The brigands !" cried Juanito ; "they are capable 
of killing my captain for his gold epaulets ;" and, to 
prevent a proceeding so prejudicial to his interests, 
the sergeant set off at a gallop. The lancers imitated 
his example, and I followed them, impatient to rejoin 
Don Bias, but without much hope that Juanito would 
be deceived. My fears were soon changed to a pain- 
ful certainty. The captain, unhorsed by the shot I 
had heard, lay upon the grass, his breast pierced by a 
ball, but still alive, in spite of the dangerous nature 
of his wound, and the blood that was flowing from it 
in abundance. We all hastened to assist him. One 
of the soldiers stanched the blood, and bound it up 
very dexterously with our handkerchiefs. While one 
of the escort went in pursuit of Don Bias's horse, 
which had escaped, and the captain, with his back to 
the trunk of a tree, was slowly reviving, I began to 
examine the ground on all sides. The unhappy man 
had evidently surprised the bandits at the very mo- 
ment they were dividing their booty, for broken boxes 



DON TOMAS VEEDUZCO EEAPPEAES. 269 

and bags turned outside in strewed the ground in all 
directions. Refreshed by a sip of brandy that I caused 
him to swallow, Don Bias declared that he had seen 
nobody, and that he had but newly arrived at the 
place when he was stretched on the earth by a mus- 
ket-shot. He then added that he knew the hand that 
had fired the piece. This was too singular a contra- 
diction to provoke a reply. Whether he had said too 
much, and, being fatigued, wished to say no more, I 
know not, but he spoke not another word. In the 
mean time his horse had been caught, and the wound- 
ed man affirmed that he thought himself sufficiently 
recovered to be able to reach the convoy. Still, his 
strength not being equal to his inclination, it was nec- 
essary to lift him on horseback. A soldier mounted 
behind to support him and take the reins, and we set 
out on the road to Hoya. 

We arrived there about midday. A new incident 
here awaited us. Scarcely had Don Bias been laid on 
one of the rough beds, hastily knocked up for him in 
a cabin in the village, when a detachment of the escort 
which had been scouring the country round all the 
morning brought in a prisoner with his hands tied be- 
hind his back. His face was blackened, and half con- 
cealed by a handkerchief. This disguise was most 
suspicious, as it is the one usually adopted by Mexi- 
can liighwaymen. Under this hideous mask I fancied 
I discerned — a remarkable circumstance — the features 
of a man who had played a most prominent part in 
one of the most melancholy episodes of my wander- 
ings, Don Tomas Verduzco. Surrounded by a crowd, 
he did not discern me. He entreated to be led to the 
captain ; and his voice, tliough altered by his agita- 
tion, was still that of the bravo. I went before the 



270 DON BLAS AND THE BRAVO. 

men who were conducting him, and entered lirst into 
the hut where Don Bias lay. As soon as he saw the 
person they had brought him, his pale face became 
livid, and hatred gleamed in his eyes ; he, however, 
said nothing. The prisoner stood unmoved, and an 
air of impudent assurance had replaced the expression 
of stupefaction that was visible a moment before in 
his countenance. 

" What ! Seiior Don Bias !" cried he ; " can I be- 
lieve my eyes ? Are you dangerously wounded ? The 
conducta, it seems, has been pillaged in part, and I am 
accused of having assisted in that piece of villainy. 
Good God ! it seems as if it were only a dream." 

" I fear that it is something worse than a dream," 
replied the captain, coldly. 

" What do you mean by that coldness ?" said the 
bravo, for it was really he. " Your lordship will, per- 
haps, be less pleased at seeing me than I am in meet- 
ing you." 

" On the contrary," answered Don Bias, in a voice 
to which excitement had restored all its former firm- 
ness, " I doubt if you are as glad to see me as I am 
to have you in my power." 

"I do not understand you, Seiior Captain, "returned 
the bravo, impudently. 

" You will understand me," said the captain. "If 
I am pleased at meeting you again, it is only that I 
may treat you as a highwayman, as a murderer, by 
shooting you at once, without benefit of clergy." 

The look of the captain, which expressed an impla~ 
cable hatred, added strength to his words ; and the 
bravo, the predominant feature of whose character was 
evidently not courage, seemed almost to quail under 
this terrible menace, and he lost countenance for a mo-^ 



WE SET OUT FOE JALAPA. 271 

raent. Seeing, however, that his wound gave Don 
Bias more assurance, he made a strong effort to master 
himself, and replied, in quite a firm tone of voice, 

" Shoot me ! That's rather a good joke ; Ibut I 
have more protectors than you think ; and, if it is nec- 
essary, I will say — Seiior Captain, I will say — " 

It was now Don Bias's turn to tremble. The cap- 
tain ordered the bravo to be silent by an imperious 
gesture ; and, signing to Juanito to leave the room, 
remained alone with the assassin. I am wholly igno- 
rant of what passed between these two worthies, and 
could only guess what cause had so suddenly changed 
the opinion of Don Bias with regard to Verduzco. I 
only know that, after an hour's conversation, the bra- 
vo quitted the captain's chamber under the escort of 
Juanito, who appeared from that moment to treat the 
prisoner with singular consideration. 

The captain's wound did not, however, look so 
alarming as it did, and a considerable difference could 
even be observed upon his spirits. After passing two 
miserable days in the cabin at Hoya, I heard without 
much surprise that Don Bias thought himself suffi- 
ciently recovered to be able to accompany us to Jalapa 
in a litter, which the chief muleteer had constructed 
for the purpose. The wounded officer would probably 
find in that town better medical advice than he could 
get in Hoya. He could also keep his prisoner in his 
own hands and under his own guidance. 

We had more than fifteen miles to go to reach Ja- 
lapa, and, although it was almost two hours after mid- 
day before we set out, it was possible to reach that 
town if we traveled at a quickened pace. This time, 
a reconnoitring party had been sent on in advance, 
and every precaution taken to guard against a new 



272 JUANITO LUNGS FOR THE BRAVO'S BOOTS. 

surprise. Juanito carried the prisoner behind him. 
The sergeant and his prisoner chatted as gaylj as two 
friends who were going to the same fete, sharing the 
same horse. The convoj advanced at a rapid pace. 
We had now marched two leagues, and had reached 
San Miguel el Soldado. I then could not help ob- 
serving that Juanito's horse, probably from its double 
burden, had lagged behind, and was now far in the 
rear. Restrained by curiosity from leaving the cap- 
tive out of sight, I gradually checked the impetuosity 
of my horse in such a way as to follow Juanito and 
the bandit at a short distance. 

" Caspita!" cried the sergeant, after a long silence, 
' ' you have on a capital pair of boots, Sefior Don To- 
mas." 

I must remind the reader that Juanito had only a 
bottine and a shoe. 

"I am glad my boots please you," Verduzco replied, 
" and I would place them at your disposal, but you 
see I am not quite done with them yet." 

*'You are very kind, Senior Don Tomas," replied 
the sergeant, with equal courtesy, " but I mean ^hat I 
would only borrow them from you when they are of 
no more use to you. That is always the way I do 
with my friends, and you are decidedly one. I shall 
wait, then." 

The two horsemen then spoke in a low tone, and I 
could only catch snatches of their conversation. I 
was soon drawn away from the distraction into which 
I had been betrayed by the beauty of the landscape. 
We were just over San Miguel. From this elevated 
point the eye wandered over a charming valley, encir- 
cled by a belt of foggy mountains. The Naocampa- 
tepetl,* an extinct volcano, which has the appearance 
* In the Indian tongue, the square mountain. 



BEAUTY OF JALAPA. 273 

of a square block of stone, is the highest eminence in 
this range. At the foot of the peak of Macuiltepetl, 
upon a beautiful carpet of verdure which covers the 
valley, in the midst of orange-trees in full blossom, of 
lofty palm-trees, and bananas loaded with fruit, stands 
the town of Jalapa, set as in a garland of flowers. 
Placed between the icy fog of the mountains which sur- 
round it and the hot atmosphere of the sea-coast, Ja- 
lapa is only visited by breezes laden with perfumes. 
The thick vapors, which hang like a curtain over the 
plain, lend to it a delicious freshness. Viewed from 
the top of the hill, where nothing was near but gloomy 
pines and a stunted vegetation, similar to that of the 
north, the valley which now lay at my feet seemed 
more enchanting from the contrast which it afforded. 

Day at last came to a close. Macuiltepetl, and the 
sides of the extinct volcano, began to lose their shades 
of dusky violet, and already the peak of Orizaba* ap- 
peared at a distance like a brilliant star. At the bot- 
tom of the picture under my eye ran an almost imper- 
ceptible white line, which terminated to the right and 
left in the horizon. This line was the ocean, and it 
was not without a lively emotion that I contemplated 
that immense mass of water which laves the shores of 
France. 

While I was absorbed in the contemplation of this 
enchanting landscape, the convoy had advanced con- 
siderably beyond me. I then fancied that the belt 
which bound the body of the bravo and the soldier 
together was not so tight as it used to be. This cir- 
cumstance, remarked also by others, led me to believe 
that Juanito was conniving at a plan of escape on the 
part of the prisoner. I asked myself, though it was a 
♦ Called by the Indians Citlaltepetl (star mountain). 
M 2 



274 THE SERGEANT SHOOTS THE BRAVO. 

"business repugnant to my feelings, if I ought not to 
apprise the captain of the matter. However, I thought 
that my presence would be a hinderance to Verduzco's 
attempt to escape, and so preferred remaining where I 
was. Suddenly the belt, cut by the hravo's knife, di- 
vided into two, and the bandit, slipping from the horse's 
back to the ground, darted off at a run. The lancer 
was up with him at a single bound of his horse. Ju- 
anito applied the muzzle of his carbine to the bravo's 
head, drew the trigger, and blew out his brains before 
I could even utter a cry. 

" On my word," said Juanito, replacing the carbine 
in its case, still smoking, "he can't complain that I 
have not liad a regard for his feelings, for I could have 
got possession of his boots two hours sooner." 
^ Set completely at ease on this delicate point, the 
sergeant dismounted, and, snatching the objects of his 
desire, pulled them off the corpse and put them on. 

" I knew quite well," added he, " that I would comr 
plete my equipment at last." 

"My dear Juanito," said I to him, "you are a faith- 
ful servant to the captain, although I always suspect- 
ed the contrary ; but there is a mystery wrapped up 
in this which I do not comprehend, and if you unrid- 
dle it for me I will give you a piastre." 

"With much pleasure," said Juanito, taking the 
money ; " I wish I could find every day a confessor 
equal in generosity to your lordship." 

The sergeant remounted, and, while walking our 
horses together, he said, 

" What you saw me do was by an order of the cap- 
tain. To shoot this wicked knave would have been, 
in the eyes of the law, a crime that would have cost 
us dear ; to place him in the hands of the judges would 



JUANITO CLEAES UP THE MYSTEEY. 275 

have offered him a favorable chance of getting off alto- 
gether ; to kill him, on the contrary, when he was try- 
ing to escape, was quite lawful. The attempt at flight, 
at which I seemed to connive, was only a plan con- 
certed between the captain and me, and the prisoner 
fell into the snare." 

"But why has your captain acted in such a way 
to a man with whom he had formerly such intimate 
relations ?" 

"Ah! that's quite another thing!" replied Juanito. 
" Before sending Verduzco to a better world, my cap- 
tain charged me to confess my prisoner. Here is what 
he told me, and which I will tell only to you, or to 
those who will give me a piastre for the information. 
Counting upon the influence which he had in high 
places, Verduzco engaged to procure for the captain an 
acting order as commander of the first convoy which 
left Mexico, the agreement being that he was to allow 
the conducta to be pillaged on its march, and that aft- 
erward the proceeds should be shared between them. 
Don Bias accepted these conditions ; but I must say 
in his favor that he seemed to have repented of the bar- 
gain he had made with the bandit. Now, you know 
what happened to the convoy ; but the best of the joke 
is, that the successful coup was made by another band 
than that of Verduzco's, who had not reckoned on any 
thing of the kind. While the bravo was waiting for 
the conducta beyond Hoya, another body of robbers, 
better informed, met it before it reached that place. 
It was by these wretches that the captain was wound- 
ed. He fancied that Verduzco had betrayed him, and 
it was on that account that I received the order to 
seize the first opportunity that offered to blow the ruf- 
fian's brains out." 



276 LAST SCENE OF ALL. 

We spurred our horses to rejoin the convoy. As 
soon as Juanito perceived the captain's litter, he set 
his horse to a gallop, and rode alongside for a time. 
Some minutes passed, during which, bending to the 
patient's ear, he whispered to him the execution of his 
orders. Suddenly he ordered the convoy to stop. All 
pressed round the litter, and I galloped up to ascertain 
the cause of the halt. A painful feeling, produced by 
the sergeant's report, had brought on bleeding inter- 
nally, and when I came up he was already in the last 
agonies. 

The death of Don Bias severed the last tie that 
bound me to the silver convoy. I resolved to let it 
proceed without me. The scenes I had witnessed had 
left a painful feeling on my mind, and I was no longer 
able to support the company of men whose brutal pas- 
sions were not satisfied till a crime had been commit- 
ted. I then halted, and soon saw the cavalcade dis- 
appear in the mist, conveying a litter which contained 
only a corpse, the escort around it holding their lances 
reversed as a sign of mourning. Night approached. I 
set out, and reached Jalapa after a slow march, where 
my sombre and melancholy thoughts were soon re- 
placed by more cheerful feelings. 



^t)e 3axoc\)os. 



CHAPTER I. 

Jalapa. 

If there is any place in Mexico where the sun shines 
Upon a richer vegetation than that in the valley of Ja- 
lapa, there is certainly no part of the country that en- 
joys a moister atmosphere. A dense, compact mass 
of light gray vapors always stretches from the sum- 
mit of the Oqfre de Perote to the very verge of the 
horizon. From this dark canopy, which is always 
charged with moisture, a fine drizzling rain falls, cloud- 
lets of mist roll along the roofs of the houses, the 
streets are deserted, and Jalapa suffers dreadfully dur- 
ing the greater part of the year for the magnificence 
of its perpetual verdure ; but the sun has no sooner 
torn aside this cloudy veil, and the deep blue of the 
heavens and that of the hills has become blended into 
one, than Jalapa becomes the enchanting town which 
at a distance it promises to be. The steep streets, which 
have now put on a very lively appearance, present at 
every step some charm which is ever varying. The 
eye is arrested sometimes by the blue and red painted 
houses which peep out from clumps of guava-trees, of 
liquidambars and palms — sometimes by the mount- 
ains which overhang the town — by the rocks which 
are completely hidden by a drapery of convolvuli — by 
the thousand streams which burst from their sides — 



278 THE FAIR DAMES OF JALAPA. 

and by the paths which are soon lost to view between 
a double hedge of daturas, honey-suckles, and jasmines. 

When evening has come a shade falls upon the land- 
scape, but the veil is so transparent that it softens its 
contour without effacing it. Even the night at Jalapa 
is quite as beautiful as the day. It is then that life 
begins to stir in the town. The ground-floor is, in all 
houses in hot countries, the place of rendezvous for the 
family and friends. It is in the evening at Jalapa, and 
at several other towns in Mexico, that the stranger can 
obtain the best insight into the domestic life and man- 
ners of the inhabitants. Every open window then 
sends forth a welcome ray of light into the dark and 
silent street, and the traveler can not but hear the joy- 
ous merriment that is going on within. In the warm 
nights of this beautiful climate the stranger can thus 
share in these fetes every evening ; he can see the Ja- 
lapeiias* display their charming vivacity without affec- 
tation, from the first moment that the fete commences 
till the flowers in their head-dresses wither, the harp 
ceases to be heard, and the windows are closed behind 
their iron bars. 

It is always with regret that you leave this charm- 
ing, warm valley, whether you are going to Mexico 
through the icy fogs of the frigid zone, or to Vera 
Cruz through the stifling and unbearable heat of the 
country between Jalapa and that city. I had defer- 
red my departure from day to day, and two weeks had 
almost rolled away like a dream since that evening 
when, permitting the silver convoy to go on in advance 
after the death of Don Bias, I had entered Jalapa alone, 

* The women of Jalapa are renowned throughout the whole repub- 
lic for their beauty and grace, and their taste in fetes, music, and flow- 
ers is unrivaled. 



SANTA anna's COUNTRY-SEAT. 279 

'My pecuniary resources were almost exhausted, and I 
was obliged to set out, taking with me mj servant 
Cecilio and another traveling companion, a young span- 
iel bitch, answering to the name of Love, an appella- 
tion which Cecilio had transferred into a Spanish name 
with quite a different signification, Lova (she wolf). 
This dog followed me in all my wanderings ; and my 
horse Storm, who had contracted an affection for her, 
never galloped with greater animation than when he 
felt her bounding between his legs or fawning upon 
his chest. 

We soon left behind us the fertile hills of Jalapa, 
its orange groves and daturas, its plains dotted with 
bananas and guava-trees, and arrived at Lencero. 
This name was given to the place by one of Cortez's 
soldiers who had set up a venta there. In that quar- 
ter are still to be found some of these huts called ^*a- 
cales* Lencero offers likewise an additional interest 
to the curious traveler. Near the hamlet, upon the 
top of a hill, from which, in a clear day, the serrated 
tops of the Cordillera and a distant view of the ocean 
can be easily obtained, rises a little house with red 
stained walls, ornamented with a modest veranda, and 
surmounted by a nnirador (belvedere) of glass. This 
agreeable retreat is the country house of General Santa 
Anna. 

At some distance from Lencero our road passed 
through the gorges of Cerro-Gordo, and a dull roar, " 
like the sea-waves breaking on a rocky beach, warned 
us of our approach to the River Antigua. Seven arch- 
es, thrown with great boldness over a deep ravine, at 
the bottom of which the river flows ; the blasted rocks 

* These huts are constructed of bamboos, wattled so as to admit both 
air and light freely. 



280 ' STOKM AND LOVE. — CECILlU. 

and the fiUed-up abysses, still attest the ancient grand- 
eur of the old masters of Mexico. This bridge is now 
called the Puente Nacional.* 

Yera Cruz is only about forty miles from the Puente 
Nacional ; but since our departure from Jalapa, the 
heat had become gradually overpowering. Storm 
snuffed up with delight the burning wind which im- 
browned the grass ; it reminded him of the hot breezes 
of the savannas. It was the first time for five years 
that he had bathed in the rays of a sun similar to that 
of his distant querencia, and his joy was manifested 
by his wild neighing. Love, on the contrary, her 
tongue lolling out, and her chest heaving, sought in 
vain for some drops of dew in the midst of a vegeta- 
tion parched and withered by the heat of such a sun. 

Fatigued by a ride which had lasted longer than I 
had anticipated, I pulled up for an instant. I had not 
intended that my halt should be long, as I wished to 
reach Vera Cruz that evening, leaving my servant to 
follow next morning if his horse could not keep up 
with mine ; but Fate had decreed otherwise. Cecilio, 
who had lagged behind, came up at the very moment 
I was going to start. The sweat was rolling in bead- 
ed drops from his burning brow, and his face, ordinari- 
ly so calm and placid, wore an appearance of extreme 
uneasiness. He shuffled up alongside of me. I was 
doubly surprised. It was the first time that he had 
ever shown himself wanting in respect, and the effort 
he now made to keep his horse close to mine was quite 
without precedent. 

" Senor," said Ceciho to me, "if the accounts I 
have picked up on the road are to be relied on, we 

* Before the independence of Mexico this bridge was called Puente 
del Rey (the King's Bridge). 



MASTER AND MAN. * 28 1 

have entered the district in which yellow fever is so 
rife, and I must say that I have strong fears for my 
personal safety, and, with your lordship's permission, 
will go no farther." 

"Very true," said I, "the yellow fever has haunts 
peculiar to itself; it is, besides, very partial to stout, 
healthy people like you ; but never mind ; you know 
the road from here to Mexico, and you may consider 
the horse on which you are at present mounted your 
own, in lieu of the money I owe you." 

Unfortunately, there was a question of wages be- 
tween the valet and his master which the gilft of a 
foundered horse, fit only for the knackers, could scarce- 
ly cover. The former hinted delicately at the diffi- 
culty, and wished to be paid on the spot. I had then 
recourse to an argument which I thought would leave 
him without any reply. 

" You know why I left Jalapa so soon. Now, as 
there are no commercial houses in these deserts that 
will accept a bill of mine upon Vera Cruz, you must 
have patience till we get there." 

Cecilio made no reply ; but his attitude proved that 
he did not consider himself beaten. In fact, after rid- 
ing in silence for about half an hour, he came again to 
the charge. 

" If your lordship would take me to Europe with 
you," he said, " I should not care about running my 
chance of the yellow fever. He who runs no risk will 
never cross the sea, as the proverb says." 

I reminded Cecilio that such a voyage was very ex- 
pensive, and that among those foreigners who had em- 
igrated to Mexico there were very few millionaires, and 
that the greater part generally went away as poor as 
they came. " Although," I added, " such men may 



282 A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS. 

be looked upon as of consequence here, when they ar- 
rive in their own country they are not treated with a 
like consideration." 

This stopped his -mouth, and he again lapsed into 
his former taciturnity. We continued our journey, 
hut he still hung obstinately on my heels. All at 
once he uttered a cry of joy. 

" What is the matter ?" I asked. 

" I have hit upon a capital way of settling the busi- 
ness." 

"Ah! let me hear it." 

" I propose to your lordship," he replied, gravely, 
"to stake your horse Storm against the wages which 
are due me. As it is impossible for you to pay me 
here, and you see that I am unalterably resolved to 
go no farther, your lordship can not refuse to assent 
to my proposition. If your lordship win, we shall be 
quits, and I shall then have only the honor of having 
served you for nothing. If your lordship lose, I shall 
have the chestnut horse and the favor of God." 

At first I was on the point of rejecting with indig- 
nation a proposition so extraordinary, but the very 
idea seemed so extravagant that I laughingly accepted 
it. We alighted. According to a habit common 
enough in Mexico, Cecilio never stirred abroad with- 
out being provided with a pack of cards ; and master 
and valet sat down, face to face, beneath a clump of 
trees on the oif side of the road. Love stretched her- 
self panting on the sand, while Storm, impatient of 
delay, pawed the ground with his hoof. At sight of 
the noble animal, that perhaps, in a short time, would 
cease to belong to me, I could not help regretting my 
rashness for an instant, but I had gone too far to re- 
cede. Cecilio passed me the cards. 



CARDS IN THE DESEET. 283 

"Your lordship will honor me by dealing them," 
said he, with redoubled gravity. 

I shuddered, and took the pack with a hand not at 
all steady. Not to prolong my absurd position, I de- 
termined that the game be decided in three alhurs* 
Five minutes would then settle the question. I put 
down two cards from thfe pack. Cecilio chose one, I 
took the other ; then, after laying down half a dozen 
cards in succession, I won the first albur. Not a frown 
crossed Cecilio's face ; and, for my part, I thought that 
fortune was going to befriend me for once in my life, 
but I lost the second throw. The third albur re- 
mained, which would decide the affair. 

While thus engaged, we had not perceived two 
horsemen who were advancing toward us. I did not 
see them, for my part, till they were almost at my 
side. The sound of their voices caused me to raise 
my head, and at a single glance I saw in one of the 
new-comers a perfect specimen of the Jarocho.f He 
wore in all its purity the peculiar costume of this class 
of men, a straw hat with a broad brim turned up be- 
hind, a fine linen shirt with cambric frills, without any 
vest above it, a pair of blue cotton velvet breeches 
open at the knee, and falling in a point to the middle 
of his leg. In a belt of Chinese crape of a scarlet 
color hung a straight sword [machete)^ without guard 
or sheath, the sharp and glittering blade of which 
sparkled in the sun. His feet, which were bare, were 
held in the wooden stirrup only by the tips of his toes. 
This Jarocho, his head inclined indolently upon one 
shoulder, sat his horse in the attitude peculiar to peo- 

* The game called monte is thus divided. 

+ The peasants of the sea-coast and the country round Vera Cruz 
are so called. 



284 . THE TWO JAROCHOS. 

pie of his caste, whose easy manner and unconstrained 
demeanor suited him to perfection. His complexion 
partook equally of the darkness of the negro and the 
copper color of the Indian. It was a more difficult 
matter to define precisely what the other cavalier was, 
who was habited in an Indian rohe, blue pantaloons, 
and bottines of Cordovan leather, while a rich hat of 
Jipijapa straw* sheltered him from the rays of the sun. 
His face, with a slight tinge of sternness in it, might 
have become equally well a merchant, a horse-dealer, 
or a highwayman, and the easy-going horse that he be- 
strode seemed to suit equally all three suppositions. 

Two gamesters at play, wherever they may be, are 
always an agreeable sight for Mexicans of all classes, 
and, to my great annoyance, the two horsemen stopped 
short to look at us. I sat quite motionless with the 
cards in my hand, and was much confused at being 
surprised at an occupation so contrary to my habits. 
As no stake was visible, however, I flattered myself 
that I would be able to keep up appearances so far as 
to make them believe that it was only the most inno- 
cent pastime ; but I had to do with men who are 
acute judges of human character. 

" Might I ask if this beautiful horse is the stake ?" 
asked the horseman in the Indian robe, saluting me, 
and accompanying his request with a piercing look. 

"Exactly so," I answered. 

" In that case you are playing high, senor," replied 
the cavalier'; " and if, as I fancy, the horse is your 
own, I wish Fortune may be propitious to you ; but 
would you not like any body to help you with their 
advice ?" 

* These hats, which take their name from the place where they are 
made, are often worth from £10 to £i2 each. 



I LOSE. 285 

" I prefer finishing the game as I commenced it. I 
have always remarked that I have more luck when 
there is no one by." 

The cavalier was too much of a gamester himself 
not to see at once the full force of my scruples, and, 
turning to his companion, said, " 'Tis as well as it is. 
Time presses. We must part here, although, if I have 
time, you may trust on my rejoining you at the fan- 
dango of Manantial ; still, to speak truth, if certain in- 
fallible signs do not deceive me, the north wind will 
not be long in beginning to blow." 

"To-morrow, then, if it is possible," answered the 
Jarocho ; and the two cavaliers separated, the first fol- 
lowing the direct road, while the horseman in the In- 
dian robe took a path on the left. 

" What the devil has the north wind to do with a 
fandango in a little village?" I asked, mechanically, 
of my valet. 

" The cavalier in the Indian robe is perhaps afiraid 
of catching cold," said Cecilio, with an affected air. 

After this absurd explanation, we again began the 
game which had been so unexpectedly interrupted. I 
once more drew two cards out of the pack. One was 
the sota de hastos (knave of clubs). Cecilio chose it. 
I shuffled the cards this time with a trembling hand. 
My heart beat. Perhaps I was going to lose the 
daily companion of five long years. Cecilio wiped 
away the sweat which ran in streams down his fore- 
head. Suddenly he uttered a cry which pierced to 
my. innermost core. I was just turning up the knave 
of hearts. 

"You have lost, sir!" cried he. 

At these words, spoken in good French, I regarded 
Cecilio with mute surprise. He, meanwhile, stepping 



286 CECILIO WINS. 

up proudly to my horse, put his foot in the stirrup, 
and was going to spring upon Storm's back. 

" Stop !" I cried. ; " the saddle does not go with the 
animal." I then ordered him to take the saddle off, 
and to put it on the back of the other horse. Cecilio 
executed this order, which would probably be the last 
he would ever receive from his old master, with suffi- 
cient readiness and good will. This done, he mount- 
ed that horse which was no longer mine. I cursed xnj 
folly, but it was too late. A feeling of pride, however, 
kept me from showing the remorse I felt ; and, to hide 
my chagrin, I asked Cecilio how he had managed to 
pick up so much French without my knowledge. 

" I have not been behind the chair of your lord- 
ship," he replied, " especially when you dined with 
your countrymen, without acquiring some of the lan- 
guage ; and as for making you acquainted with that 
fact, I was too wide awake. Your lordship, from that 
time, would have kept your secrets to yourself." 

Cecilio was evidently like one of that class of valets 
who figure so largely in the picaresque romances of 
Spain. More than once he had reminded me of Am- 
brosio of Lamela in Gil Bias. His physiognomy liad 
not deceived me. However, in spite of the impudence 
which he here manifested for the first time, he seemed, 
when the parting moment came, to suffer considerably. 
It was natural, in fact, to show some emotion when 
he was leaving a master who had used liim kindly. 
Moved by this token of feeling on his part, I showed 
that I was not without some affection for him. 

" Cecilio, my friend," I said, "the horse you have 
won from me would have been yours before many 
days had passed. Are you grieved because you have 
been the means of taking him from me ?" 



MY LAST PEIEND LEAVES ME. 287 

Cecilio squeezed out a tear. 

"The truth is," said he, "I regret seeing your beau- 
tiful saddle on the back of such a sorry brute, and I 
am ashamed at the miserable appointments that the 
horse I have won is provided with. But, if your lord- 
ship is in the humor, would it suit you to play for the 
saddle and bridle ?" 

This was too much. Overcome by this last piece 
of ingratitude, "Take care," I cried, cocking a pistol, 
"that I do not take back a horse which you are not 
worthy to mount." 

Cecilio made no other reply to this threat than by 
spurring his horse and whistling on the Spanish dog, 
which had looked upon this scene with a painful air 
of dumb anxiety. I whistled also. Thus forced to 
choose between two parties whom he had affectionate- 
ly loved all his life, the poor animal hesitated. He 
ran up to Storm, and then came back to me with a 
most pitying expression in his face. The convulsive 
movements of his body betrayed his anguish, and 
showed the struggle that was going on within. His 
limbs shook for an instant ; he then gave three con- 
vulsive howls, darted from me, and was soon lost in 
the dust raised by his much-loved companion. I re- 
mained alone. My heart was in a storm of rage and 
grief, and I was even tempted to vent my ill-humor 
on the miserable hack that fortune had left me, but 
this weakness lasted only for a moment. I had learned, 
in the many crosses incident to a life of stirring ad- 
venture, the difficult virtue of resignation, and the dif- 
ferent phases of this sentimental episode had been ac- 
companied by circumstances so ludicrous that I fin- 
ished by throwing myself on the grass and bursting 
into a violent fit of laughter. 



288 A FOKEST IN THE TKOPICS. 



CHAPTEB II. 

I arrive at Manantial. — Superstitions of the Jarochos. 

The unfortunate occurrence recorded in the preced- 
ing chapter caused me to change my route. It was 
impossible for me to reach Vera Cruz that day, mount- 
ed as I was ; so I resolved to pass the night at Ma- 
nantial, a little village which I supposed to be not more 
than a mile off. I had thus some time before me, and 
I thought it could not be better employed than in tak- 
ing a siesta under the shade of the^ trees, amid the 
green solitude in which I found myself. It was a 
spot in one of the most picturesque forests which cov- 
er almost the entire country between Puente Nacion- 
al and Vergara. Amid these matted thickets, narrow 
paths, cut by the hatchet, run in different directions, 
overshadowed by the almost impenetrable foliage of 
the trees, while a wall of luxuriant vegetation on each 
side bars every where the entrance of man, and almost 
that of the fallow deer. The long, pendent branches 
twist and interlace their tendrils with the boughs of 
the neighboring trees. The cocoa-nut-tree covers, with 
its large leaves, its necklace of green fruit ; and the 
Bourbon palms stretch their branches, covered with 
shining foliage to the ground ; the silk-cotton-tree 
shows its white flakes of cotton just bursting from 
the dark green pod. jln the deep shade of these in- 
habitants of the forest the friar's cowl abounds with 
its polished chalice ; and at the bottom, as well as the 
top of this green vault,~the gobeas hang their little 
bell-flowers of variegated colors. Such is the aspect 



A FOKEST IN THE TKOWCS. 281) 

of these woods — an appearance, however, which as- 
sumes a different phase according to the hour of the 
day. At middaj the rank vegetation droops under 
the scorching rays of the sun, from the palm, with its 
towering crest, to the lowly moss which covers the 
ground. A hot breeze at that time rushes through 
the thickets, and appears to arrest every where the 
progress of vegetation ; wild beasts, birds, insects, and 
plants — all animated nature, in fact, seems to languish 
under this stifling heat ; but when the sun's rays no 
longer gild the tree-tops, and the vapors rise slowly 
from the ground, to fall back again in dew, these for- 
ests and their denizens, once so silent, start again into 
life. 

Overcome by the powerful influence of the sun, I 
fell fast asleep without any thought about my horse. 
The pettiest thief, indeed, would have been ashamed 
of such booty ; and I was, besides, in a district where 
no stain . of dishonesty rested on the character of the 
inhabitants. The sun was yet high in the horizon 
when I awoke, but a refreshing breeze was beginning 
to temper the sultry heat. High up amid the branch- 
es of the trees which sheltered me, the paroquets had 
begun their discordant noises, and their infernal melo- 
dy was of such a kind as to annoy even the strongest 
nerves. I got impatient ; and, hastily bestriding the 
wretched animal which supplied the place of my excel- 
lent Storm, set out on the beaten path that led to 
Manantial. 

After riding slowly and painfully along for about 
half an hour, the shrill croaking of the paroquets al- 
ways paining my ears, I perceived a horseman a little 
way in advance. This cavalier, attired exactly like 
one of those who had interrupted Cecilio and me at 



290 A JAEOCHO CAVALIEK. 

our game, seemed, like myself, to be quite out of hu- 
mor. He rode, as all the Jarochos do, with his body 
inclined more to one side of the saddle than the other. 
His horse shuffled slowly along, and every now and 
then he held up his fist to the skies in all the fury of 
passion. Delighted that chance had sent me a com- 
panion in misfortune, I wished to oiFer him my hearty 
condolence, and succeeded in that design beyond my 
expectation. Scarcely had I managed, by dint of hard 
spurring, to make up to him, than a loud ringing laugh 
replaced the mental irritation in which I thought he 
had been indulging a minute before. 

" May I ask if you are laughing at me ?" I said, 
abruptly ; for, in the bad humor I was in, this hilarity 
seemed quite out of place. 

" At you ? No, Senor Cavalier," answered the Ja- 
rocho. "But you will excuse me if, at sight of your 
horse, I bid adieu for a time to all customary polite- 
ness." 

"My horse is in no worse condition than the an- 
dante*' you are on," I replied, almost choking. 

" You may think so ; but that hack of yours is a 
mere bag of bones, and it is no small satisfaction to 
me to find one worse mounted than myself." 

The horseman then began to laugh in such a merry, 
unconstrained fashion, that, tickled with the very ab- 
surdity of the thing, I could not help joining him, and 
we had a good hearty laugh together. The squab- 
bling of the paroquets, struck with the unusual noise, 
ceased all of a sudden. They recommenced their ear- 
splitting cries, till at last I discharged a pistol at ran- 
dom among the foliage. To my great surprise, a bird 
fell at my feet. 

* Local synonym for a horse. 



OUE CONVEESATION. 291 

" Did you take aim at it ?" asked the astonished 
Jarocho. 

" Of course," I replied, sharply ; " and this will serve 
to show you that it is not altogether safe to jest with 
people you don't know." 

At these words the Jarocho stopped his horse, and, 
straightening himself in his saddle, placed one hand 
upon his haunch, and pulled his straw hat over his 
eyes with the other. He then cried out, " Oigajte, 
nor deconocio* I am of a caste and of a country 
where words are few, and whose actions are prompt. 
I did not mean to offend you ; hut if you seek a quar- 
rel, I shall not flinch. In spite of the disparity of our 
weapons, I am not afraid to try which of us is the bet- 
ter man." 

He hummed a tune, drew his sharp sword from the 
leathern belt which encircled his waist, and flourished 
it in the air. I likewise drew my sabre. 

The idea of crossing swords, mounted as we were 
on such sorry jades, was so absurd, that we at last 
burst into a mutual roar of laughter, which ended the 
matter. I then hastened to explain to the Jarocho 
that I had no inimical feeling toward him. He held 
out his hand. 

"I am glad you are satisfied," he replied, "for I 
should have been very sorry to have an enemy in one 
so brave as you appear to be, as at present I have a 
more serious quarrel on my hands." 

We then rode along together quite amicably. To 
turn the conversation, recalling, besides, to my recol- 
lection the parting words of the two horsemen at the 
cross-road, I said, in a careless kind of a tone, "Isn't 
there to be a fandango at Manantial to-morrow V 
* Listen, Sir Stranger. 



292 THE FANDANGO. 

"There is, confound it! I promised na* Sacra- 
menta a bow of red ribbons for the occasion, and there 
is not a bit to be had in all the neighborhood. At 
the very moment you joined me I was cursing my un- 
lucky star. Probably you are yourself going to the 
fandango?" 

" Well, I am ; but chance alone brought me to think 
of it, for I had reckoned on sleeping to-night at Vera 
Cruz, had not an unfortunate occurrence come in the 
way." 

"You will have no cause to regret it, I hope, for 
the crowd will he as thick as smoke. But where will 
you put up at Manantial? There is no inn in the 
place." 

" With you, perhaps, since you appear to be so de- 
sirous to have me at the fete." 

The Jarocho bowed in token of assent, and then be- 
gan to give me an account of the numerous pleasures 
that awaited me on the morrow. Conversing thus, 
we reached Manantial. Night had come. A few scat- 
tered lights gleaming from among the green foliage an- 
nounced our approach to the village. We soon reached 
a little clearing in the wood, dotted with cabins formed 
of wattled bamboo. This was Manantial. Some men 
and women, clad in the national costume, were danc- 
ing to the monotonous sound of a mandolin, -while the 
mothers were rocking their infants to sleep in ham- 
mocks formed of strips of aloe bark. I soon learned 
the name of my new host. 

"Ah! its Calros,"t cried they, in a tone as if his 
arrival had long been looked for. He paid no atten- 
tion to the greeting of his friends, who advanced to 

^ Abbreviated form of Dona, used in this part of Mexico, 
t Calros, Charles. 



DONA SACEAMENTA. 293 

welcome him, but his eye roved about till it rested on 
the slender and graceful form of a young girl, whose 
pretty little feet were twinkling merrily in the dance. 
Her hair, black as ebony, was ornamented with a 
wreath* of suchil flowers, interspersed with fire-flies, 
whose pale bluish light encircled her forehead with a 
mysterious and fantastic halo. Draped in a white 
robe, whose waving folds were every moment blanched 
by the pale rays of the moon, Sacramenta, with her 
bare shoulders and variegated hair, looked like a fairy 
dancing by night in a glade of the forest, wheh all 
around is at rest. 

The almost disdainful glance which she threw at 
him showed me at once the true state of affairs. The 
Jarocho waited till the dance was finished, and then 
advanced toward the girl. By the entreating tone of 
his voice, it was clear that he was excusing himself 
about the red ribbons he had promised her. I was 
too far off" to hear his words, but the light which 
streamed from a neighboring cottage showed me the 
full expression of her features. It was evident that 
all Calros's rhetoric had been useless, and he remount- 
ed, but with a saddened, irritated air. Sacramenta, in 
shaking her head to a remark of his, allowed one of 
the suchil flowers to fall from her chaplet. The Ja- 
rocho regarded it for some time with an undecided air ; 
and she, marking his hesitation, and while pressing 
the wreath on her forehead, in a fit of coquetry, raised 
the flower on the tip of her tiny foot, and presented 
it to him. The cloudy countenance of the Jarocho 
^ was now lit up with joy ; he seized the flower ea- 
gerly, spurred his horse, and was soon lost in the 
darkness. 

* A head-dress greatly in vogue among Mexican females. 



294 HOSPITALITY OF CALROS. 

It was quite clear that he had completely forgotten 
me, but it was as clear that I had no intention of tak- 
ing up my quarters for the night in the forest. 

" Halloo ! Senor Don Calros," I shouted after him, 
"you have left me behind." 

" Pardon me, Senor Cavalier," cried he, pulling up; 
" but there are times when I am hardly master of 
myself." 

"I am convinced of that," I said; "and it is cer- 
tainly no indiscretion in you to forget a stranger whom 
you met by the merest chance." 

" In jnj country the stranger is at home every 
where ; but you shall not have my hospitality for 
nothing, for you must pay me either by doing me a 
particular piece of service, or assisting me with your 
advice." 

"With pleasure," I answered, "if it is in my 
power." 

The dwelling of the Jarocho, called a jacal, was sit- 
uated at the other end of the village. A small inclo- 
sure, in which a few goats were penned, was attached 
to it. The cabin was divided into three apartments 
by reed partitions. In one of these, the mother of the 
Jarocho was preparing the evening meal over a fire 
whose reddish glow lighted up the whole jacal. The 
repast consisted of rice boiled in milk, fried bananas, 
and red haricots from the Tierra Caliente, which enjoy 
a proverbial celebrity in Mexico. When supper was 
ended the old woman left the room, wishing me a 
pleasant sleep. 

The distant thrumming of guitars apprised us that 
the company we had left were still keeping up their 
merriment. The voice of the Jarocho awoke me from 
the reverie in which I had been indulging. 



MY host's supeestition. 295 

"Do you see," said he to me, as we were lying at 
the door of the cabin, " that fleecy mist which dulls 
the light of the stars ? These are the vapors which, 
at the end of every hot day, arise from the lakes, 
brooks, and waterfalls. Do you think it possible that, 
at the command of a mortal like ourselves, this shad- 
owy impalpable fog should assume the form of a friend 
who has been lost, or an enemy that has been mur- 
dered?" 

" I doubt that much," I replied, astonished at this 
preamble ; " I fancied that these superstitious notions 
were peculiar only to northern climes." 

" Here," said Calros, in a solemn tone, " ghosts 
haunt not the abodes of the living ; they love to flit 
about in the woods, and to frisk among the leaves and 
flowers. But you smile. Let us talk of something 
else. Did you see na Sacramenta this evening?" 

" The pretty girl with the wreath of cucuyos and 
the suchil chaplet ?" 

"The same. She is very beautiful, is she not? 
Six months ago, at a fandango in the neighborhood, a 
quarrel arose on her account, which was followed by 
the death of a man. The victim was a relation of 
mine ; and, according to universal custom, it became 
my duty to avenge his death. I had, besides, an ad- 
ditional inducement in seeking the murderer; he adored 
Sacramenta, and every one who loves her is my sworn 
enemy. Twenty times have I persuaded myself into 
a belief that Sacramenta loved me, and twenty times 
have I been forced to confess to myself that I was de- 
ceived. I feel that I love Sacramenta more than my 
life — than my honor, perhaps — else I should have been 
on the murderer's traces long ago ; and yet this even- 
ing I have even ventured to hope." 



296 THE SPIRIT OF THE MURDERED MAN. 

"Yes, a mere suchil flower may sometimes work 
miracles," said I, interrupting him. 

" What !" cried Jarocho, " have you the gift of see- 
ing what no one else has seen?" 

"I only observed what every body else might have 
seen, had they chose ; but when a man receives a 
flower from the hand of a girl he loves, he needn't, I 
think, despair." 

"Thank Heaven!" cried the Jarocho, cheerfully. 
"Yet," he added, with a sigh, "this is not the first 
token I have had from her ; to-morrow the illusions 
of this night may be dispelled. Ever since iia Sacra- 
menta came to live at Manantial I have suflered the 
utmost tortures of anxiety, and yet vengeance has not 
been done on my cousin's murderer. I have tried to 
forget that duty ; unluckily, there are others who do 
not. The dead man's mother reminds me every day 
of the charge which has devolved upon me. Eight 
days ago I met the old woman. I wished to avoid 
her, but it was impossible. She is looked upon as a 
sort of witch by the people around. On passing me 
she cried out, ' The dead have better memories than 
the living.' I asked her what she meant, although I 
knew full well. 'You will see him to-night,' she re- 
plied. In truth, that very evening," Calros continued, 
in an altered voice, "I was seated at the same place 
where we now are, Senor Cavalier ; the door was open, 
and my thoughts were engaged about nothing in par- 
ticular. I was only listening to the voices in the trees 
and on the wind ; a pale white mist was creeping up 
to the sky, as it is doing now. All at once a cloud 
came between my eyes and the stars ; it took a hu- 
man form, and the dead man was before me ! I saw 
him distinctly, right in front of me. I closed my eyes. 



I CONSENT TO CALEOS'S REQUEST. 297 

and when I opened them he was gone. You will now 
understand why I asked you, senor, who, as a Euro- 
pean, must he a learned man, if mortals like ourselves 
can raise the dead." 

These superstitious notions are not at all prevalent 
in Mexico, and the Jarochos seem to have a complete 
monopoly of them. I gently hinted that all this was 
nothing but the result of a diseased imagination. 

"I know well," said he, " that the ghost of my de- 
ceased relative has not been raised by any human 
power, but I believe that God himself has sent it to 
me. I have taken my resolution. I shall not stay 
in the village a day after to-morrow, although I leave 
it with a broken heart." 

" But is there no way of reconciling your duty with 
your love V 

"That can only be done by delegating my powers 
to a devoted friend. A guest makes a part of the 
family ; and in this quality, senor, you might take 
my place and seek the murderer, who would not hesi- 
tate to give you satisfaction." 

" That would be too glorious a mission for me, and 
I fear I should not be successful in the search," I said, 
modestly ; " but I have no objections to accompany 
you, and aid you in your task." 

" That is an offer which I will not refuse," Calros 
answered. " We shall then set out the day after to- 
morrow." 

This delicate point settled to our mutual satisfaction, 
we stretched ourselves under a shed which served as 
a sort of veranda to the cabin. A gentle breeze was 
beginning to dissipate the heat of the day. The liz- 
ards were silent in the grass ; and in the savannas, 
the wild cattle, by their joyful lowing, testified to the 
N2 



298 CHARACTER OF THE JAROCHO. 

grateful freshness of the night. Lulled hy the soft 
murmur of the twittering leaves, I soon fell asleep. 



CHAPTER III. 

The Fete of Manantial. — The Combat. 

The name of Jarochos is given to those peasants 
who live on the sea-board round Vera Cruz. Their 
costume bears no resemblance Avhatever to that of the 
people around them. The inhabitants of Andalusia 
wear a dress very similar to theirs, and it is the gen- 
eral opinion, from their manners and character, that 
they are the descendants of the Gitanos of that Span- 
ish province. Their dialect is, like their attire, strange 
and singular. It abounds in words of the purest Cas- 
tilian, interspersed with local terms disfigured by a 
vicious pronunciation, and can not be understood, even 
by those who know Spanish, without diligent and care- 
ful study. They are impatient of restraint, and, con- 
sequently, ill fitted for acting as soldiers or sailors, al- 
though well versed in the use of arms, and not unac- 
quainted with the dangers of the sea. It is their love 
of independence which causes them to prefer the wan- 
dering life of the herdsman and the horse-dealer, and 
the machete plays no unimportant part in all their dif- 
ficulties. The Jarocho would rather want the most 
indispensable part of his dress than be deprived of the 
long, sharp, glittering blade which he wears in his belt. 
This sabre is more generally in the hand of the Jaro- 
cho than at his side. A small point of honor, or the 
most futile remark, has often been the means of bring- 
ing on the most bloody and long-continued series of 



MY HOST IN FULL DEESS. 299 

combats. They are possessed, however, of some rare 
qualities, which atone for their defects. The Jarocho 
is temperate, firank, loyal, and hospitable to the whites 
(by this terra he means the higher classes) ; he looks 
upon theft with horror ; he loves the place of his birth. 
A stranger to every desire for wealth, he lives content- 
ed with a little in the midst of a fertile country where 
three harvests a year cover the ground, which is sown 
but not tilled. The inhabitants of the country round 
Vera Cruz are in general robust and well made. They 
are strong and muscular ; and nature has thrown round 
their persons an air of elegance in exact harmony with 
the devotion the Jarocho pays to three things : his 
horse, his sword, and his mistress. 

Seven years before my arrival in Mexico, I once 
had an opportunity of meeting with one of this singu- 
lar race ; but, from want of familiarity with Spanish, 
I could not well understand his peculiar dialect. 

As soon as I awoke in the morning, I was remind- 
ed, by the handsome and elegant dress of my host, 
that it was the fete-day of Manantial. A twisted 
fringe, strung with Venetian pearls, and studded at 
regular distances with little mirrors, ran round his hat ; 
his shirt, of the finest linen, was embroidered in the 
most beautiful manner ; the buttons of his velvet cal- 
zonera at his girdle were made of solid piastres, and 
those which ran down his legs of reals and half reals. 
On his feet were half-boots of Cordovan leather. His 
cortante^* polished to the highest degree of brilliancy, 
hung suspended from his girdle of scarlet silk, and two 
bows of the same color adorned its hilt. Set out thus 
to the best advantage, the Jarocho had an air of re- 
finement about him which augured well for his success. 
* Local name for a sword. 



300 MANANTIAL ON A FETE-DAY. 

In spite of a degree of satisfaction which shone upon 
his countenance, Calros could not help twirling the 
end of his mustache with an anxious expression. His 
joy seemed to be mixed with an alloy of bitterness. 
I asked him the cause of it. 

" Ah ! if you could only free me of my vow of ven- 
geance, I should be relieved of a charge which will em- 
bitter, I fear, all my pleasures." 

" What ! will your oath keep you from drinking, 
singing, and playing ?" 

" No, but it will hinder me from knocking a fellow 
down ; and what is a fandango without some little 
quarrel to enliven it ? No matter ; one can not have 
all one's pleasures at once. I shall sing louder, play 
more, and drink as much as will soothe me for the dis- 
appointment." 

I doubted much the calming efficacy of Catalonian 
brandy, but I affected to believe fully in the power of 
the remedy. 

Manantial, like the Jarocho, had put on its holiday 
garb for the occasion. An unusual stir was visible in 
the village. At the doors of the cabins, women, ar- 
rayed in abundance of muslin and lace, appeared from 
time to time, decked with gold and coral ornaments, 
so dear to the swarthy beauties of Southern countries. 
In a glade, an estrade had been erected for the accom- 
modation of the dancers ; little shops had been im- 
provised for the supply of water, tepache, and Catalo- 
nian brandy ; gambling-tables had been set up. In a 
few hours the Jarochos from the surrounding villages 
would come pouring in. The sun was shining full 
upon the spot in all its dazzling brilliancy. The 
shadow cast by the palm-trees, already a little off the 
perpendicular, showed that it was two hours past noon. 



PREPARATIONS FOR A DANCE. 301 

Crowds of horsemen now began to arrive, who, after 
alighting, tied their foaming steeds to the trunks of 
the trees or the pillars of the houses. Horses and 
men were soon mingled together in strange confusion ; 
the cries of the men, the neighing of the steeds, and 
the tuning of guitars, were now heard on all sides. 
Circles were speedily formed round the gambling-ta- 
hles, the ventorillos,^ or the estrade reserved for the 
female dancers. Here I stationed myself. 

The estrade, on which female dancers were alone to 
figure, was elevated a few inches above the ground. 
According to a singular custom prevailing in all the 
villages round Vera Cruz, the men on this occasion are 
mere spectators of the women's performances. A Ja- 
rocho squatted himself down on the ground close to 
the estrade, and commenced strumming his mandolin. 
Eight or ten girls answered to his call, and began to 
dance. I could not help admiring the graceful dex- 
terity with which many of them carried a glass of wa- 
ter on their heads without spilling a drop, dancing, 
too, all the while with the greatest vigor ; or the agility 
with which they untied, without using their hands, the 
silk bows attached to their shoes, f When this dance, 
very coldly applauded, was finished, the guitar struck 
up a new tune, that of the dance caSledi petenera. 

This time the estrade was quite full, and among the 
women who advanced to take a part in this measure I 
recognized, by her graceful mien and dazzling beauty, 
Dona Sacramenta, whom my host called, in his flow- 
ery language, his dearly-beloved angel on earth. She 
was attired in a beautiful dress of transparent muslin. 

* A kind of shed erected for the sale of brandy, tepache (a ferment- 
ed Uquor made from ananas), and other intoxicating liquors, 
t This danpe is called bomba. 



302 SACEAMENTA ADOENED FOE THE DANCE. 

Her rounded arms were adorned in the upper part by 
the embroiderj and lace of her cambric chemise, the 
rest remained bare. The contour of her fair shoulders 
was masked, but not entirely concealed, by a gorget 
of lace very like Arlesian. She wore shoes of the 
most beautiful satin, and a tress of her magnificent 
black hair was wound round a tortoise-shell comb 
mounted with massy gold. Her eyelids, cast down 
under the fiery glances that were shot from all sides 
at her, allowed one to see the long silken lashes with 
which they were fringed. She was not now the calm 
beauty that I had admired the evening before in the 
moonlight, but an impassioned daughter of the tropics 
in all her brilliancy. 

The excitement among the spectators, increased by 
their frequent libations, became greater and greater 
every minute, but another and a more intense interest 
was soon awakened in the minds of the crowd. 

"Ah !" cried a Jarocho at my side, whose hair was 
beginning to turn gray, " at the last fandango held at 
Malibran,* Quilimaco lost one of his ears, and Juan 
de Dios the point of his nose, in a quarrel that arose 
about a beauty who was not worth a lock of hair com- 
pared with that girl there." 

"Have patience, ^^(3,"t answered another; "the 
beautiful Sacramenta has more than one aspirant in 
this village, and I venture to predict that, before night- 
fall, she will have danced the Tnachete and chamarra 
for two at least among us." 

I did not understand what they meant, but the 
events that followed soon explained it. Two groups 

* A little village about three leagues from Vera Cruz, 
t Uncle, an expression of endearment, applied to men advanced in 
years. 



THE JAEOCHO'S DESPAIE. 303 

liad bj this time formed round the estrade occupied by 
the dancers. In the first, a Jarocho, as richlj dress- 
ed as Calros, seemed to exercise a rnarked ascendency. 
In the second, my host appeared to be the head of an- ' 
other party. Animated by the hope of some quarrel 
arising between the two factions, the musicians strum- 
med their guitars with redoubled ardor, and a fearful 
discord filled the air. Just when the dancers were 
beginning to put themselves in motion, some singers 
chanted, in a nasal tone of voice, a couplet whose words 
bore no relation whatever to the present circumstances, 
and which consisted of a series of proverbs put in verse, 
almost devoid of meaning, but strongly tinged with 
obscene allusions. I was then standing near my host, 
whose eye was following with a jealous attention the 
least movement of Sacramenta, but she did not deign 
to bestow upon him the slightest glance. 

" You see my hard fate," said he to me, in a low 
voice ; "in high hope one day, in despair the next. 
We shall set out to-morrow." 

These last words betrayed such poignant grief that 
I could not help cursing in my heart that pitiless co 
quetry which could wound the feelings of so ardent a 
lover. 

"Ah!" he resumed, "she has not yet forgiven me 
for that confounded bow of red ribbons which I was 
unable to procure for her." 

At this moment his rival advanced to the estrade, 
and uncovering, presented his hat to Sacramenta with 
a very gallant air. She received it with a smile, with- 
out interrupting for a moment the evolutions in which 
she was engaged. Calros's face appeared quite im- 
passible, and he contented himself with making an al- 
most imperceptible gesture to one of his partisans. 



304 HOMAaE PAID TO saceamenta. 

This person then advanced in his turn and did the 
same. Custom demanded that, in a case like this, the 
maiden should show preference to neither ; she there- 
fore continued to dance with the two hats in her hand. 
The advantage of seeing his hat placed upon the head 
of the dancer would by right belong to the third gal- 
lant ; and, as I expected, Calros was the one who prof- 
ited by this usage. The two rivals then exchanged 
looks of mutual defiance, while the first, untying his 
sash of China crape, formed it into a rosette, and step- 
ped forward to suspend it to the bare shoulder of Sa- 
cramenta. 

The guitars, now struck with the greatest vigor, 
made almost as much noise as a band of trumpeters, 
and the voices of the singers increased in proportion. 
The men were exchanging looks of evident satisfaction, 
but the women were chattering among themselves, evi- 
dently envying the homage paid to Sacramenta. This 
young girl kept her feet in motion ; her complexion 
was heightened by a reddish glow, which lent an ad- 
ditional charm to her radiant black eyes. A vague 
apprehension, however, seemed to agitate her bosom. ' 
At once happy and miserable, she dared not turn her 
eyes upon him whose heart yearned for her with such 
true affection. In spite, also, of Calros's apparent 
calm, the involuntary working of the muscles of his 
face disclosed the torture he was suffering. 

"Courage!" said I to him, in a whisper; "have 
you not on your heart the suchil flower ?" 

Calros raised his head, as if the remembrance of 
that had restored all his confidence. He seized his 
machete, and went to suspend it at Sacramenta's shoul- 
der. I then understood the meaning of the prediction 
that I had heard some time before. Sacramenta danced 



PLEDGES AND THEIE EEDEMPTION. 305 

with the machete and chamarra of two of her suitors. 
It was a singular sight to see a long, sharp, glittering 
blade dangling from the nude shoulder of the young 
girl, in such close proximity to her heaving bosom. 

A sudden silence now fell upon the crowd, similar 
to what sometimes takes place at a bull-fight when 
the arena has received its first stains of blood. All 
at once a loud and imposing male voice near the or- 
chestra exclaimed ' ' Bomba ! " The instruments ceased 
to sound, and the song died away. The voice was 
that of Calros's rival, who -now chanted a couplet ex- 
pressive of his confidence in his mistress's tenderness, 
while the friends of the Jarocho repeated the last line 
in chorus. Calros then answered in a high key by 
saying that he would not have a divided heart, and 
that his rival was a traitor. 

The Jarocho replied in another recitative, by in- 
quiring if he had spirit sufficient to meet him in fair 
combat. Calros then, with a smile upon his face, ex- 
pressed his willingness to meet this traitor, this vaga- 
bond, this false friend. 

Whether Sacramenta was weary of the dance, or 
overcome by the general emotion which was maiiifest- 
ed when this last couplet was chanted, I know not, 
but she stepped hastily from the estrade, and her com- 
panions followed her. Instructed by past experience 
not to wait for the commencement of the melee, as 
their instruments generally suffer in the fray, the mu- 
sicians hurriedly retired. Some customary pieces of 
ceremony were still, however, to be gone through; 
the suitors must redeem the pledges given to the danc- 
er. The customary fee for these is half a real each. 
The two rivals advanced, one after the other, and filled 
both hands of Sacramenta with silver coin. While 



306 THE AUNT OF CALROS. 

she was receiving the forfeits, in the midst of mur- 
murs of applause excited by the prodigality of the two 
Jarochos, and which she could not refuse without be- 
ing guilty of rudeness, her two little outstretched 
hands trembled involuntarily, and her pale lips tried, 
but in vain, to smile. Calros fruitlessly sought a 
look of encouragement from her. Pale and mute, and 
evidently laboring under an emotion too powerful for 
concealment, she kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. 
The machete would decide the question ; and the 
pleasures of the fete were going to be wound up by 
my host in spite of his sage resolutions, when an old 
woman, elbowing her way through the crowd, remind- 
ed him of the oath he was about to violate. She was 
the mother of his dead relative. 

" It is a shame, nor Don Calros," cried the beldame, 
" to take a new quarrel upon you when your cousin's 
death has not yet been avenged." 

The Jarocho was evidently taken aback at this un- 
seasonable interruption, and he made all the efforts he 
could to induce the old woman to retract what she had 
said, but to all his reasons she had one unvarying re- 

" Well, na Josefita," said Calros at last, good-hu- 
moredly, "you are making a great work about noth- 
ing, and are mistrusting my good intention ; for, if I 
fight this man, am I not keeping my hand in exer- 
cise ?" 

"And should you happen to be run through the 
body, who will then avenge my son ?" 

" You are right there," replied Calros, thrown off 
his guard by this argument; "but that's just the way: 
the women are always mixing themselves up in busi- 
ness that does not concern them. Any one may now 



WILL ANY ONE FIGHT ME? 307 

take mj place," he continued, with an ill-natured air, 
"if ray adversary consent." 

His rival bowed, and, poising his hat jauntily over 
his right ear, placed at the same time his hand upon 
the hilt of his machete, and with his right leg thrown 
slightly in advance, exclaimed, with an air of haughty 
condescension, " What do I mean hy all this ? Will 
the good folks of Manantial allow it to he said that 
they suffered their fandango to he terminated without 
bestowing the customary honors upon their visitors? 
Now," he continued, his eyes winking with increased 
rapidity, " if I can not knock a man down for the 
sweet eyes of na Sacramenta; I shall forfeit to any 
one who draws the first blood a bottle of Catalonian 
brandy." 

Loud shouts of applause interrupted the orator, who, 
raising his head with an air of assurance, thus went 
on : "I must say, however, that, having expended my 
last real not an hour ago, I can not pay and must con- 
quer. Will any one here fight me on these conditions?" 

This ridiculous fanfaronade, quite in the spirit of' a 
Jarocho, was welcomed enthusiastically by the by- 
standers. As for the speaker, looking upon Calros, 
who was biting his thumbs, he cried impudently, 
" Come, now, Don Calros, you have no lack of friends 
to take your place." 

But the enthusiasm of the crowd had died away. 
The prospect of paying the forfeit in one's own per- 
son, and out of one's own purse, did not appear to be 
welcomed by any of the on-lookers, and I was not 
without some apprehension that Calros would revert 
to his former idea by asking me to become his substi- 
tute. Happily, an unexpected incident occurred which 
saved the honor of the villagers of Manantial. 



308 THE HONOR OP THE VILLAGE IS SAVeD. 

Bj the same road that I had reached the village the 
evening before, a Jiorseman was descried galloping 
along at his utmost speed. All eyes were turned upon 
the new-comer, who appeared to be a stranger, and 
whom I recognized as one of the horsemen who had 
interrupted my game with Cecilio. The unknown 
alighted, and, without saying a word, tied his horse to 
one of the wooden pillars of a liouse ; then, still silent, 
he stepped to the estrade, drew his machete, at whose 
hilt fluttered a bow of red ribbons, with its point traced 
a circle in the sand, and then stuck his sword in the 
centre. 

A dead silence welcomed this strange visitanl;. The 
sword stuck in the ground seemed to me to convey a 
defiance to all the village. The antagonist desired by 
the rival of Calros appeared to have stepped in at the 
proper time. The general gaze was now directed to 
the former boaster, but he evidently did not feel in- 
clined to take up this unlooked-for challenge. The 
stranger, who looked like one of those Paladins on 
whom a vow of silence has been imposed, advanced as 
haughtily as he had come to one of the ventorillos^ 
called for a glass of brandy, and raised it to his mouth; 
but, with the air of a man who disdains to assist his 
courage by artificial stimulants, instead of drinking it, 
he tossed the liquor over his shoulder. He then cast 
upon all the by-standers a proud glance of defiance. 
• All the villagers viewed the unknown with admira- 
tion, but none seemed so impatient to measure their 
strength with this brilliant champion as Calros. If 
the reader remember, he was not in favor with Sacra- 
raenta, owing to the affair of the bow of red ribbons. 
Now at the hilt of the stranger's sword hung a bow 
of ribbons of the very color she wanted. 



THE STEANGER's CHALLENGE IS ACCEPTED. 309 

"Viva!" he whispered to me ; "the old woman may 
go to the devil; Sacramenta shall have her ribbons." 

He then went and planted his sword beside that of 
the unknown. The challenge was accepted. The 
stranger courteously carried his hand to his hat, and, 
having considered his adversary for a moment, cast a 
rapid look among the group of females, as if singling 
out some one on whom to bestow the homage of his 
valor. He was not long in discovering the beautiful 
Sacramenta, and, stepping toward her, exclaimed, with 
admirable self-possession, "The fandangoes of Medel- 
lin have lost all their attraction since na Sacramenta 
is no longer there to enliven them with her presence. 
May I flatter myself that she has not forgotten them, 
and one of her most fervent apasionados V 

The young woman was going to reply, when Calros, 
whose jealousy was ever awake, approached the un- 
known, and said, " Pardon me, Senor Cavalier, but I 
have a particular liking for red ribbons. Will you 
surrender those that adorn your machete as forfeit for 
the first blood drawn?" 

"With pleasure," answered the stranger. " I should 
hardly have ventured to oifer them in homage to Dona 
Sacramenta; henceforth they shall have a certain val- 
ue in my eyes, as being the price of blood shed for 
her." 

After saying these words with a gracious smile, he 
uncovered hinsself, and plucked his sword out of the 
ground. Calros did so too. A polite altercation then 
took place between them as to who should be the first 
to place his hat on his head ; but this was soon decid- 
ed by bonneting at the same time. The most expe- 
rienced of the spectators undertook the task of select- 
ing a spot free from the sun's rays. This done, the 



310 THE COMBAT. 

combatants stood face to face, the villagers surrounded 
them, and they waited for the signal to begin. If the 
stranger was as skillful as he was brave, Calros would 
find in him a tough opponent, and the issue might 
probably be unsuccessful to this ardent lover of Sac- 
ramenta. The word was given, and the combat com- 
menced. Their blows were so furiously put that it 
looked more like an encounter for life and death than 
a contest for the first blood.* Sometimes the swords 
cut the air with a mournful sough ; sometimes they 
struck one another with a shrill clang. It was evi- 
dent, however, that the stranger looked more to the 
honor of his antagonist than to his life. Now, in 
combats of this sort, the great point is to guard the 
hand. A wounded hand is the greatest stain upon the 
reputation of the most renowned swordsman. The 
loss of life even is not such a disgrace. Unluckily, 
the red ribbons, fluttering at the hilt of the unknown's 
sword, protected his hand more securely than even the 
best steel guard could have done. It was to deck the 
beautiful hair of Sacramenta that Calros was exposing 
his life ; it was to guard these ribbons from stain that 
the Jarocho stood so grimly on his defense. In the 
course of the combat the swordsmen had now gone 
over a considerable space of ground. The tumultuous 
crowd wavered to and fro, and followed the two combat- 
ants as they were successively displaced. Neither had 
yet received a scratch, when the sword of the stranger, 
striking that of Calros, glided along the whole length 
of the blade. A moment after, my host's fingers be- 
ing cut, he was just about to drop his machete, but a 
rude parry he made to save his arm failed, and the 

* The Jarochos know nothing of scientific fencing, and trust alto- 
gether to strength and agility of body. 



CALEOS THE VICTOR. 311 

blood poured out from a -wound above his wrist. At 
the same instant a bloodj stain appeared upon the 
shoulder of the stranger. The two swords were low- 
ered at once, and the combat was decided without its 
being possible for me to say which of the two had been 
first wounded ; but the skilled and experienced eyes 
of the witnesses had decided that question. The un- 
known did not even appeal to their judgment; but, 
detaching the silk bow which adorned his machete, 
fixed the much-coveted ornament upon its point, and 
held it out to his adversary, thus confessing himself 
conquered. This last act of courtesy won him all 
hearts ; and, in spite of his defeat, he partook with 
his rival in all the honors of victory. One thing only 
remained, which my host perhaps desired more. Dur- 
ing the whole time the combat had lasted, a deadly 
paleness had overspread the countenance of Sacra- 
menta, but that soon gave place to a more lively color 
when Calros advanced toward her. While she was 
receiving the precious ribbons which he had so val- 
iantly fought for, the tumultuous heavings of her bo- 
som, a sweet and radiant smile, and looks no more cast 
down to the ground, all proclaimed in the most elo- 
quent manner to the happy Jarocho that his beloved 
attached as much value to the bow of scarlet ribbons 
as he had done to the withered suchil flower which had 
fallen from her hair the night before. 

This last episode had passed unnoticed by almost 
every body. The men surrounded the stranger, who 
this time invited them to a ventorillo. Calros soon 
joined the company, and the two rivals began a con- 
test of prodigality, to the great delight of all the vil- 
lagers, who, as they swallowed the brandy in long 
draughts, congratulated themselves on having had such 



312 ANOTHEll STliANGEK. — THEY BOTH DEPART. 

a brilliant fandango as would furnish matter for con- 
versation for a week to come. For my part, after 
some words had passed between the former rivals, I 
was on the point of addressing the stranger, when the 
general attention was directed to a horseman who was 
seen advancing at full gallop. This cavalier was no 
other than the person with whom the unknown had 
agreed the evening before to meet at Manantial. 
When he saw the blood which stained his shirt, the 
new-comer cried, " Have you passed a pleasant time 
here, friend Julian ?" 

" Better than I could have expected, friend Ventu- 
ra," answered the stranger. 

"Well, did I not tell you what would happen?" 
said the horseman, pointing to the sky, which, having 
been covered with clouds for some time, now betoken- 
ed a coming storm. " We shall have some hard work 
presently upon the beach. Will you accompany me ?" 

" Willingly," answered the unknown, sadly, " for I 
am afraid I have nothing to hope for here." 

And, remounting his horse, after shaking every one 
by the hand, the two friends went off at a gallop. A 
general break-up then followed. The passage at arms 
between Calros and Julian had closed the fete in a 
worthy manner. 

Who were Julian and Ventura? None of the Ja- 
rochos around me seemed to know them ; but I in- 
tended to interrogate Cakos about the strangers on the 
first opportunity. When night had come, and we 
were lying together under the veranda of my host's' 
cabin, I was on the point of questioning him about the 
two mysterious individuals, when the light tread of a 
person walking over the dry grass interrupted me. It 
was the old woman Josefa. Carefully draped, in spite 
of the heat, m her rebozo^ which allowed only her tv; 



WE SET OUT FOE BOCCA DEL EIO. 313 

sparkling dark eyes to be seen, the old woman pre- 
sented a complete specimen of those sorceresses that 
are still to be found in Mexico among so many other 
remnants of the Middle Ages. 

" I have been charged with a message for you," said 
she to Calros, " and from the lips of one dear to you, 
who will welcome you on your return, if you ever re- 
turn alive. You will be told when to set out as soon 
as you are ready." 

The Jarocho rose briskly, and followed the old 
woman. An hour afterward he returned. He knew 
that her most fervent wishes accompanied him in his 
perilous enterprise, and his brow was radiant with de- 
light. 

" It is, however, very hard to leave Sacramenta," 
he remarked, "but I have no longer a pretext for de- 
ferring niy departure, and we shall set out to-morrow 
morning." 

"So be it ; but what road do you intend to take ? 
Do you know to what place the murderer has fled ?" 

" We shall keep-by the coast. Old Josefa assures 
me that the pilot Ventura will put me on his traces. 
He is at Bocca del Rio. Down there we shall cer- 
tainly meet him." 

When Calros named Ventura, I was desirous to sat- 
isfy ray curiosity by asking who he was. I inquired 
if he knew this Ventura, and, above all, Julian, whose 
chivalrous conduct had singularly interested me ; but, 
as I obtained nothing but vague replies, I was confirm- 
ed in my design of accompanying my entertainer to 
Bocca del Rio, where I hoped to meet the two friends. 

Next morning we saddled our horses before dawn, 
and, as soon as it was daylight, quitted the village, 
which was still enveloped in its usual morning fog. 

O 



®l)e |)Uot tientura. 
CHAPTER I. 

Vera Cruz. — Bocca del Rio. 

The place wliere Vera Cruz now stands is not that 
on which Cortez first disembarked. It was not till 
the end of the sixteenth century that Count de Mon- 
terey, the viceroy, laid the foundations of the present 
city. Destined to become the key to New Spain, 
Vera Cruz was built by the conquerors with all the 
splendor which they usually lavished on their under- 
takings. The houses were made large and spacious, 
and the streets crossed each other at right angles, to 
allow the fresh sea-breezes to circulate freely, and to 
temper the intense heat of the atmosphere. Still faith- 
ful to that antipathy to trees, which seems a distinc- 
tive trait in their hygienic principles, the Spaniards 
chose, as a site for the first maritime city in Mexico, 
a vast sandy plain, enlivened by scarcely a spot of 
verdure, and not even containing a single spring of 
water. Even before it was first visited by the yellow 
fever, a situation so unfavorable gave to Vera Cruz a 
melancholy appearance, which it has preserved to this 
day. The town, though scarcely all built upon, nev- 
ertheless quickly attained a very high degree of pros- 
perity. It was firom its ill-sheltered roadstead that 
those rich galleons sailed which conveyed to Europe a 
mass of wealth far surpassing the much-vaunted treas- 
ure ?« of Potosi. 



DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN. 315 

Few remains of its former grandeur are now to "be 
seen. Built on too large a scale for its decreasing 
population, this citj, once so flourishing, never tried 
to struggle against that decline which is soon made 
known to the traveler by its empty houses and desert- 
ed streets. The wind from the sea exercises in full 
force its destructive agency ; and the terrible periodi- 
cal gales are sometimes so violent as to tear down the 
crumbling walls of the palaces, and lift from their beds 
the rusty cannon which serve for posts upon the quays. 
In Vera Cruz you are reminded of the cities of the 
East, as well from the rich and picturesque costumes 
of the people of the neighboring coast and of the inte- 
rior, who flock to the town, as by the dull appearance 
of the houses and public buildings. Every where you 
observe domes of various colors, steeples shooting high 
into the air, balconies ornamented with massive grat- 
ings ; and, as if to increase the resemblance still more, 
the women of the upper classes are never seen in the 
streets. If you wish to get a glimpse of them, you 
must penetrate into the interior of the houses, or, 
rather, go out after sunset. Then, the murmur of 
mysterious voices, the rustling of a fan, and some pale 
figures, blanched by the rays of the moon, sitting be- 
hind a Venetian blind half opened, reveal the presence 
of the fair Vera Cruzans to the stranger, whom the 
freshness of the night, and the delicious coolness of 
the sea-breeze, have brought out upon the streets. 

Washed on one side by the ocean, which is gradu- 
ally wearing away its admirable mole, surrounded by 
heaps of sand, which the wind is continually shifting, 
Vera Cruz, at the present moment, submits with in- 
difierence to the progressive encroachment of the sand- 
hills and the daily ravages of the waves. The north- 



316 DECAYING APPEARANCE OF THE CITY. 

east wind carries before it, in dense whirling masses, 
large bodies of sand. For many centuries a line of 
movable hills has been thus gradually formed behind 
the city. These hillocks, improperly called inedanos, 
are continually augmented by fresh additions, and are 
ever changing, according to the caprice of the wind, 
their place and figure. Some rise in the air like pyr- 
amids, from the top of which small portions of sand 
are constantly flying off like a never-failing bank of 
fog. The great number of these medanos, many of 
which attain a height of from fourteen to more than 
thirty feet, threatens to bury the town ; but, as the 
danger is still distant, and in hot countries one's ex- 
istence hangs merely by a thread, the inhabitants leave 
to their posterity the task of providing against that 
emergency. Another disadvantage still more serious 
is, that the medanos hinder the rain-water from flow- 
ing away. Small lakes are thus formed at the bottom 
of these sand-hills ; and the parched-up ground is grad- 
ually converted into a fenny marsh, from which arise 
the most pernicious exhalations. A thick layer of 
mud fertilizes the sand, and all the noxious plants 
which abound in low, moist grounds are here produced 
in countless profusion. During the rainy season tliis 
rank vegetation spreads and grows round all the mar- 
gin of the ponds. The mangroves shoot their branch- 
es down to the ground. They take root there, pro- 
duce new trunks, and soon form impenetrable thickets 
— haunts of numberless reptiles of every kind. A 
thick crust of greenish scum carpets the surface of the 
water. The fermentation which sets in on the return 
of hot weather in these frightful marshes disperses del- 
eterious miasmas abroad, and removes to a distance 
the swarms of musquitoes. For three months of the 



A TEMPEST IS APPEOACHING. 317 

year, however, the impetuous squalls which usually 
prevail sweep away all pestilential vapors, and mo- 
mentarily purify these sinks of putrefaction. 

The reader may perhaps remember that, the day 
after the fandango at Manantial, ,1 had set out with 
Calros to seek the murderer whom he had sworn to 
punish. On' leaving the village, there were signs 
abroad which showed the near approach of one of those 
tempests caused by the north wind, termed by seamen 
northers. A strange, dreamy sort of languor seemed 
to brood over all nature ; the suffocating heat caused 
our horses to foam and pant, although our pace was 
designedly slow, and our lungs sought in vain for the 
freshness of the morning air. 

We had traveled only a few hours on a road over- 
shadowed by trees, when a dull, hollow, rumbling noise 
was heard. It was the sound of waves ; we were ap^ 
proaching the sea without being able to discover its 
whereabouts. A. few minutes afterward we debouch- 
ed upon the beach, and I could not help contemplat- 
ing with delight that ocean which bathed the shores 
of Europe. In the distance we descried Vera Cruz, 
with its spires and domes, and the fort San Juan de 
Ulloa, that stood like a rock among the billows, above 
which shot the tall, slender masts of the shipping in 
the roads. 

The state of the sea gave every indication of a tem- 
pest, of which we had recognized the first symptoms 
in the wood. .The waves gently licked the sand; a 
more than usually keen smell was distinguishable ; tlie 
fish were evidently uneasy, leaping high out of the 
water ; and the sea-birds wheeled round and round in 
.the air, uttering mournful cries. Thick clouds were 
already sweeping up over the town. AH at once a 



318 PEES AGES OF A COMING STOEM. 

large cleft was observable in them. The Sierra of 
San Martin, which extends from Tuxtla to the mouth 
of the Goazacoalco, was suddenly stripped of the veil 
which had, till now, hid the range from our eyes, and 
its sharp peaks were brought out in bold relief against 
the deep blue sky. 

" Woe betide the ships that are in' the gulf just 
now!" said Calros, "for the north wind will advance 
upon them sword in hand ;* this will be a tempestu- 
ous night. We shall know something more about it 
this evening at Bocca del Rio." 

I made no reply at first. I was gazing on the 
ocean. To-morrow I intended to bid adieu to Mexi- 
co, and to embark for France. Contending emotions 
were striving for mastery within me. The joy at my 
return, long desired as it had been, was tinged with a 
momentary feeling of dejection. The country that I 
was about to leave had satisfied my thirst for adven- 
ture, and I wished ever afterward to lead a more calm 
and equable life. Calros's remark reminded me that 
I had not yet left this life of peril, from which I fan- 
cied I had been freed too easily. When, after saying 
nothing for a few moments, I told him — a little con- 
fused, I own — that I intended to embark in the first 
American ship that was leaving the roads, Calros ob- 
jected with an air of chagrin, reminding me of my 
promise to accompany him to Bocca del Rio ; and he 
then pointed out the threatening appearance of the 
sea. Not a single ship will lift her anchor here for 
four days, he added ; and this last argument was de- 
cisive. I then agi'eed to his terms. I arranged to 

* Con espada en mano, a local term to denote the fury of the north- 
east wind. It commonly blows for fifty hours when it is strong. If 
weak, it lasts sometimes five or six days. 



VERA CKVZ. THE NOETHEE. 319 

spend one of the four days of detention with him at 
Bocca del Rio, to assist in the search for the murder- 
er. That port is only twelve miles from Vera Cruz. 
Calros intended to go through the city on the way to 
his village. For my part, I resolved to stay in town 
to make arrangements for my departure, after which I 
meant to rejoin Calros in the evening. 

A short time after this we entered Vera Cruz. Upon 
the arid, sandy plain which surrounds the town, some 
muleteers had pitched their tents, waiting impatiently 
for the time when they could fly this pestiferous coast, 
which carries off some of their number at almost every 
trip. Farther off, a few negro porters, accustomed to 
this burning climate, were wrestling and struggling on 
the sand, paying no regard to the fine clothes they 
wore. I could not help smiling involuntarily when I 
compared in my own mind their condition with those 
of our porters at home. After renewing my promise to 
Calros of meeting him soon, I repaired to the counting- 
house of my correspondent. I shall pass over in si- 
lence the worthless incidents which occurred during 
this day, till the time when I had to quit the town 
and set out for Bocca del E,io. 

The wind now began to blow strongly firom the 
north. When I reached the shore, after passing the 
outskirts of the town, great black clouds, preceded by 
drifting scud, veiled the face of the sky, and an icy 
blast, charged with cold from Hudson's Bay, struck 
me at intervals upon the face. The waves broke on 
the beach with a mighty roar, and the water came up 
as far as my horse's feet in large sheets of white foam. 
The farther I advanced, the wind seemed to increase 
in fury, and the night was growing darker and darker. 
Forced sometimes to turn my back to avoid the clouds 



320 THE MYSTERIOUS CAVALIER. 

of drifting sand, I now and then had a glimpse of the 
town that I repented of having left. At regular inter- 
vals, the light-house of San Juan de Ulloa blazed up in 
all the beauty of its revolving light, sometimes gleam- 
ing on Vera Cruz shrouded in darkness, and then on 
the roadstead white with foam. For a moment I dis- 
cerned the ships at their anchors pitching up and down 
on the broken swell, and almost driving on each other. 
The light soon turned, and all was dark. It was 
scarcely the season for a nocturnal excursion. I ad- 
vanced, however, with a resolution that deserved some 
credit, and had akeadj approached the wood at the 
extremity of which lies the village of Bocca del Rio, 
when I fancied I distinguished a cavalier somewhat in 
advance of me. I hastened toward him. Enveloped 
in a large blue cloak, he seemed at a distance like a 
Franciscan. The noise of the tempest was so loud 
and overpowering that I was by his side before he- 
perceived me. I then saw he was not a monk, but a 
peasant of the coast, whose hayeta* I had taken for a 
frock. With his hand upon his eyes to guard them 
from the dazzling glare of the lightning, the horseman 
rode on, casting keen glances toward one side, as if 
seeking to pierce the dark veil which hung over the 
ocean ; but nothing could be seen but the white crest 
of the waves lashed into fury by the violence of the 
storm. I shouted to the stranger with all tlie force 
of my lungs, but the violence of the wind hindered my 
words from reaching him. i\ll at once a loud report 
was heard in the distance. At the sound, as if it had 
been a signal he had been ardently expecting, the cav- 
alier put spurs to his horse, and galloped off in the di- 

* A kind of cloak of woolen cloth worn almost exclusively by the 
Jarochos. 



I EEACH BOCCA DEL EIO. — THE WEECKEKS. 321 

rection of the woods of Bocca del Rio. He was soon 
lost to view among the trees, and my only care was, 
in the midst of the lianas and underwood, to keep the 
straiglit path which led to the houses. I had reason 
to hope that, once among the trees and sheltered from 
the fury of.the wind, I could follow the road with ease. 
As soon as I entered the wood, the noise of the waves 
gradually died away. I rode almost an hour berieath 
this leafy vault in complete darkness, and it was not 
without regret that I again perceived, by a flash of 
lightning, a long line of foaming breakers. I soon ar- 
rived at Bocca del Bio, so called from its situation at 
the mouth of the river ; but, on issuing from the wood, 
an interesting spectacle met my view, which decided 
me to make a short halt. 



CHAPTEB II. 

The Wreckers. — Narrow Escape of Ventura. 

In spite of the violence of the tempest, the whole 
population of Bocca del Bio were assembled on the 
beach, and all eyes were fixed on the boiling sheet of 
foam, whose phosphorescent light contrasted strongly 
with the deep black of the heavens above. Not a sail 
was in sight. The distant boom of a gun, however, 
signaled that a ship was in distress, and that a pilot 
was required. In such a night as this, it was evident 

that nothing; short of a miracle could save the luckless 

o 

vessel from being dashed to pieces. Still, as another 
gun had not been heard, it was hoped that the ship 
exposed to the tempest had weathered the danger. 
Besides, a pilot who had left that morning before the 
O 2 



322 A SHIP DRIVES ON SHORE. 

norther began to blow had very likely got on board, 
and his consummate seamanship and skill eased some 
minds. A few, however, persisted in looking upon 
the ship as doomed. 

I soon recognized Calros, whom curiosity had 
brought to the spot. Just when he was .concluding 
his account about the general gathering of the people 
of the village, we heard another heavy boom, and this 
time more distinctly than the last. A flash was soon 
followed by a third report, and at the end of a few sec- 
onds the dark mass of a vessel was distinctly seen, 
driving on shore with as much rapidity as if she had 
been impelled by sails* Apparently no^power could 
now save her. A by-stander, however, remarked that 
there was still a chance of safety, if she succeeded in 
reaching a part of the bay, opposite to which ran a 
kind of natural canal, where she might glide softly on 
to a sandy beach ; but if, on the contrary, the luckless 
ship were driven on the rocks, she would infallibly go 
to pieces as soon as she grounded. Unfortunately, 
no one could exactly make out the place in question 
in the dark, since we could not light any fires for fear 
of guiding her in a wrong direction. 

All the manoeuvres of the ship appeared to be now 
directed to impelling her in the direction of the canal 
that was covered by the waves. Sometimes she drift- 
ed broadside on, sometimes she ran right before the 
gale, in the direction of the shore. A cry of joy sud- 
denly arose that was heard above the roaring of the 
tempest. About a gunshot from the place where we 
were standing, a beacon-fire flashed up with a brilliant 
flame. Had some courageous fellow hazarded his life 
to point out the passage into the place of safety ? We 
fancied that the people on board put the same con- 



SHE STEIKES. — THE PILOT VENTURA. '626 

struction upon the light as we did, for the ship was 
seen advancing toward the light with great rapidity, 
looming larger and larger as she approached the shore. 
The light was waved backward and forward, but was 
kept always in a straight line. A single jib was the 
only sail that could be set to assist her in answering 
her helm. Sometimes, when the wind lulled for an 
instant, her motion appeared to be checked, but a fresh 
gust soon gave her a new impulse. At last, carried 
on the top of a high wave, the vessel hung for an in- 
stant upon her larboard quarter, then upon her star- 
board ; she then started forward and canted on her 
broadside, her timbers grinding heavily against the 
ground. A cry of distress reached our ears, heard 
distinctly above the roar of the winds and waves ; at 
the same instant the light went out, like one of those 
glow-worms which flit through the air at night in fen- 
ny places, and lead the incautious traveler into quag- 
mires. The schooner was a complete wreck. All we 
could now do was to save the crew and passengers. 
While some were deliberating on the means that 
should be adopted for that purpose, a man was seen 
making his way along the bows of the wrecked ship, 
and, by the light of a lamp which shone full upon his 
face, I distinguished a person who was no longer un- 
known to me since his visit to Manantial — I mean the 
pilot Ventura. Some words that he directed to us 
through a speaking-trumpet were heard very indis- 
tinctly, but a line that he held in his hand left us in 
no doubt as to his meaning. Ventura was begging us 
to launch a boat to take the end of a rope on shore. 
But it was impossible that any thing could swim amid 
these breakers. A boat was then lowered from the 
bows of the schooner, several seamen got in, and pnllod 



'624 THE SHIP LOST BY A FALSE LIGHT. 

hard to reach the shore ; but, in a few minutes, struck 
by a sea, it filled with water and disappeared.' 

One man only succeeded in reaching the shore, al- 
most exhausted with cold and fatigue. He was the 
pilot Ventura. Paying no attention to the questions 
the people put to him, he unwound a line that was 
fastened round his body, and ordered them to hold on 
by the end so as to assist in saving the remaining sail- 
ors on board the schooner. A hundred hands imme- 
diately seized the rope, arid held it with the strength 
of a capstan. That done, the pilot gave me the de- 
tails of the dark and mysterious proceeding which I 
had just witnessed. The ship had been lost through 
a false light. The beacon-fire that had drawn her 
upon a reef of rocks had been lit by the perfidious 
hands of one of those wreckers to whom every ship- 
wreck is a godsend. While telling a story which re- 
flected so much credit upon himself for his courage, 
Ventura's eyes wandered about among the crowd, 
seeking to discover the mahcious individual who had 
caused the loss of the schooner. I could hardly help 
thinking on the person whom I had seen in advance 
of me before my arrival at Bocca del Rio, and who, on 
the first signal of distress given by the ship, had gal- 
loped off so furiously in the direction of the sea. 

" Curse them !" cried Ventura, on finishing his ac- 
count ; "to the devil with those wreckers whom the 
north wind brings to the coast to rob the shipwrecked 
and pillage the cargo ! Above all, confound the ras- 
cal who led us ashore to gratify his own infernal cu- 
pidity!" 

While he was speaking, the vibratory motion given 
to the cordage announced that the sailors of the ship 
wov'^ striving to reach the land by its assistance. In 



I REMAIN UPON THE BEACH. 325 

fact, partly by swimming, partly by wading, the ship- 
wrecked seamen were not long in reaching the shore, 
though not without great difficulty and danger, as the 
sea was running higher, and the wind had increased 
in fury. The vessel, which was an American schoon- 
er, had been bound to Alvarado with a rich cargo of 
contraband goods, which was destined to become, to 
all appearance, a prey to the waves and the inhabi- 
tants of the coast ; but, with American prudence, the 
lading had been insured for a sum at least equal to 
its value, and the captain, knowing it was an affair 
between the underwriters and the proprietors of the 
ship, interested himself only to procure shelter for him- 
self and crew. The peasants received both him and 
his men with every demonstration of hospitality, in- 
cited, no doubt, by the consideration of profiting with- 
out scruple, during the night, by the waifs which the 
sea would not be long in throwing up. I or my part, 
I intrusted my horse to one of the villagers, after 
taking the precaution of placing in my belt the pistols 
which were in the holsters. My intention was to re- 
main upon the beach, tha.t I might not lose a single 
portion of the strange scene which the organized pil- 
lage of a wreck promised me. 

The women and children having been sent away, a 
small number of men only remained upon the shore, 
waiting impatiently for the moment when the sea 
would give back a part of the cargo that had been in- 
gulfed in it. Ventura caused all the lights to be ex- 
tinguished, and the beach became dark, if not still. 
The hoarse noise of the waves was as loud as the 
thunder overhead. Sometimes the pale light of the 
moon illumined the foaming breakers with which the 
sea was covered, and you got a glimpse of the ill-fated 
vessel pounding to pieces UDon the rncks. 



326 THE WRECKERS APPEAR. 

" Wherever there is a corpse," said the pilot, point- 
ing to the schooner, "there you wild find zojnlotes* 
or sharks. We shall soon see the wretch that caused 
the loss of the vessel, and it will be a shame if we al- 
low others to share in any thing that the sea may 
throw upon our coasts." 

No sound, however, save the wild war of the ele- 
ments was heard, and, while waiting for the wreckers, 
I had leisure to examine the situation of the different 
places. A few paces from us was the mouth of a 
river, whose banks were covered on both. sides with 
thick brushwood. On our side of the stream stood 
the houses of Bocca del Kio, and between it and us 
ran a thick range of mangroves, which would, owing 
to the darkness, hide us completely from view. Upon 
the suggestion of the pilot, we agreed to lie in ambush 
at this spot. 

We were not long kept in suspense. A body of 
men on horseback soon appeared, riding along the 
bank of the stream. They stopped upon the beach. 
The troop halted a short distance from the mangroves 
as if in doubt, and a horseman advanced alone to re- 
connoitre. 

" The rascal has gone away to get assistance," said 
the pilot to me, in a low voice. 

"And some mules, doubtless, to carry away the 
spoil," remarked one of the river-men. 

In the horseman who had left the main body I was 
not long in distinguishing the man whose odd behav- 
ior had raised my suspicions while on my way from 
Vera Cruz to Bocca del Kio. Astonished, no doubt, 
to find the place which he had left so full of life some 

* Black vultures that abound in the streets of Vera Cruz, which per- 
form the part of public scavenafers by cleaTinsf the streets of carrion, &c. 



* 
VENTUKA FIEES AT THEIE CHIEF. 327 

time before, quite deserted, the man, still enveloped in 
the same blue bayeta, continued silently to examine 
every place, and at last advanced near the mangroves. 
He soon, however, returned to his comrades. 

The remains of the schooner's cargo, which the tide 
was washing on shore, could now be plainly seen. 
This was a sure indication that the most valuable 
parts of the lading would not be long in being thrown 
up. The wreckers could no longer restrain their im- 
patience. They stationed themselves in a long line 
along the strand, so that nothing could escape them. 
The man in the blue cloak, who seemed to be the 
chief of these wretches, rode his horse into the waves, 
to have a better view of the boxes and bales floating 
about. 

" Will any of you lend me a gun ?" asked the pilot. 

One of our party handed him his musket. Ventu- 
ra seized it. At this moment the dark profile of the 
chief w^'ecker and his horse, relieved by the white foam 
of the sea, presented an admirable mark. He fired, 
and we saw the cavalier fall from his steed, and dis- 
appear beneath the waves. The other wretches took 
to flight. Immediately after, a man came out of the 
water, and walked up the beach, the ball which Ven- 
tura had intended for him having only struck his horse. 
The pilot ran toward the villain to prevent his escape. 
A struggle took place in the darkness. Just when we 
had come up to assist the pilot, he was thrown to the 
ground by the marauder, whose poniard happily had 
glided over his clothes without injuring him. It was 
impossible to overtake the fugitive, as he fled as fast 
as his legs could carry him, fancying, probably, his op- 
ponent had been killed. Ventura rose with difficulty. 

" I was not able to hold him," said he, passing hi« 



328 ON THE TRACES OF THE MUEDEEER. 

hand over his body; "but that's nothing. I recog- 
nized the fellow ; it is Campos ! I am not hurt a bit ; 
but it is a wonder that the rascal did not pin me to 
the ground with his dagger. I am curious to know, 
however, where the deuce the scoundrel got that horse." 

"Did you say that the miscreant's name was Cam- 
pos?" cried Calros ; " Tereso Campos?" 

"Yes, Tereso Campos." 

" That's the man I am seeking," returned the Ja- 
rocho, grasping my hand. 

"Are you in search of him ?" asked the pilot ; " and 
why?" 

" To kill him," answered Calros, quite naively. 

"Well, I warrant you we shall find him to-morrow ; 
and if the proprietor of the horse he stole join us, as 
he ought to do, the scoundrel will be very fortunate if 
he escape." 

"You hear, Senor Cavalier," said Calros to me; 
"you have a like interest with us in avenging your- 
self upon Campos." 

"Why?" 

" Because, if I am not mistaken, it is your horse he 
has carried off." 

I replied with perfect disinterestedness that, with 
the exception of the saddle, which was a costly one, I 
did not attach the slightest value to the sorry hack of 
which he had deprived me. But my objection was 
overruled, and I was obliged to yield. The reader 
may perhaps remember that I had sent my horse to 
the village in the charge of one of the inhabitants, but 
the man had tied up the beast to a tree near the beach, 
intending to return for it in a short time ; and Cam- 
pos, meanwhile, had stepped in and appropriated the 
animal. 



DIVISION OF THE SPOIL. 329 

Before advancing up the country in pursuit of tlie 
fugitives, a Very delicate business still remained to be 
accomplished. This was the equitable division of the 
spoils from the wreck, vast quantities of which had 
been thrown up by the waves. I was not long in per- 
ceiving that the wrath of Ventura was chiefly directed 
against the marauders, because they were poaching on 
his preserves. At first, a few isolated portions of the 
rigging had been collected, then casks of wine and 
brandy, which were soon followed by large quantities 
of boxes filled with various articles. As they were 
thrown upon the shore, they were seized and piled up 
in a dxjf sandy hollow till the distribution was made. 
I must say that Ventura conducted himself on this oc- 
casion with the strictest impartiality ; he reserved 
nothing to himself beyond his share but a number of 
small boxes containing a goodly number of yards of 
fine Irish Knen, as a sort of recompense for the dan- 
gers he had run. All was arranged to the full satis- 
faction of the river-men, who carried their booty away 
with such expedition that, in a short time^not a single 
article was to be seen on the sands. 

We at last settled what was to be done during the 
remaining hours of the night, which was already ap- 
proaching its meridian. In an hour hence we agreed 
to meet on the bank of the river at a place that the 
pilot pointed out to us. He, meanwhile, went home 
to secure his share of the plunder. The Jarocho had 
contemplated with a disdainful indifference the pillage 
of the shipwrecked cargo. Before quitting the shore, 
he threw a last look upon the sea, which was still beat- 
ing with remorseless fury against the timbers of the 
ill-fated schooner, and then upon the broken barrels 
and boxes which the tide was still floating to land. 



330 EXCURSION BY WATER. 

"All that," said he, with a melancholy smile, "is 
not to be compared to a fandango under the palm- 
trees, nor a look from Sacramenta." 

I could not help thinking that the Jarocho was right ; 
but it was scarcely the moment to lose one's self in 
amorous reveries. A short walk took us to the vil- 
lage ; and, after a frugal repast, a necessary precaution 
before setting out to encounter new fatigues, we direct- 
ed our steps in silence to the place where Ventura was 
waiting for us. 



CHAPTER III. 

Excursion up a River. — Vengeance overtakes Campos, the Murderer. 

In a little creek, overshadowed by some gigantic 
willows, we found the pilot engaged in putting the oars 
on board a small boat that was moored to the bank. 
I was rather averse to a march through the woods, and 
it was with a feeling of pleasure that, instead of a pe- 
destrian excursion, I saw we were to be conveyed to 
our place of destination in a boat. I communicated 
my satisfaction to the pilot. 

"Here," said he, "we only travel in two ways, on 
horseback or in a 'dingy.' We leave to the newly- 
landed Galicians the resource of striding a path* 
You can row, of course?" addressing himself to Calros. 

He answered in the affirmative, and we took our 
places in the skiff. As I was only a passenger, I 
stretched myself on my cloak at the bottom of the 
boat to shelter myself from the wind. Though we 
were at a considerable distance from the mouth of the 

* Ensillar la vereda. 



NIGHT UPON A PICTUEESQUE RIVER 331 

stream, the river was swollen witla the tide, and the 
water lapped the sides of the boat with great fury. 
We set out, and, impelled by two pairs of strong arms, 
soon began to glide rapidly along the surface of the 
dark water. The usual imposing stillness of Ameri- 
can forests was on the banks. At a distance you 
heard the dull, heavy roar of the wind raging among 
the trees. The banks of the river were very undulat- 
ing. Sometimes its bed widened considerably, and 
we then kept in the centre of the stream. At other 
times the water flowed between high, precipitous rocks, 
under a thick canopy of mahogany and cedar trees, 
from whose branches long-trailing parasitical plants 
hung over our heads. Charmed with the beauty of 
the river, I forgot completely the object of our journey. 
I was soon reminded of it, however, by the pilot. 

"Every one," said he, "in this world has his ene- 
mies. For my part, I know more than one individu- 
al, and Campos among others, who would be very glad 
to know that at this late hour of the night, in the midst 
of these solitudes, which alcalde has never visited, they 
could meet Sinforoso Ventura unarmed and defense- 
less." 

" Have we no arms ?" Calros inquired. "Are the 
pistols of my friend here, my machete, and your mus- 
ket, to be reckoned as nothing ?" 

"In an open country such arms would be of the 
greatest service ; here they are of no use. A person 
hidden in any of the trees which overhang the stream 
could pick out any of the three he chose, and send a 
ball through his head ; or, by throwing the trunk of a 
tree across the river, might capsize our boat, if he did 
not smash it to pieces. What do you think of that?" 

" I dare say you're right," answered Calros. "Luck- 



332 OUR CRITICAL SITUATION. 

ilj, nobody is to know that you are to Ibe pulling up 
the river to-night." 

" I am not so sure of that," said the pilot ; " there 
are spies and traitors every where. If any of the ma- 
rauders we put to flight this evening has the slightest 
inkling of our plans, be sure that his comrades will be 
apprised of it time enough to meet us at a part of the 
river I know. We have already rowed two hours," he 
added, shaking his head, " and the place is not far off. 
You now know what we have to fear. Consider, there- 
fore, whether we shall push on, or land, and wait till 
daylight." 

" I can not lose a minute," returned the Jarocho, 
coldly. "If we pull well, we shall reach the village 
where Campos lives in an hour." 

"It is quite the same to me," Ventura replied. " Let 
us proceed." 

A dead silence succeeded these words. Knowing 
now the dangers we had to run, I went and seated my- 
self in the bow, to try to make out, if it were possible, 
the ambuscades that threatened us ; but the darkness 
was so great that I could discover nothing. The leafy- 
vault under which we moved threw a thick shadow 
over the bed of the river; at times, however, a gusl 
of wind shook into the water, like a shower of golden 
rain, large cucuyos, which fell from the trees above us. 
Not a single star was to be seen through the inter- 
stices of the foliage. A quarter of an hour had now 
elapsed without in the least justifying the suspicions 
of the pilot. The Jarocho lay on his oars to take 
breath, and the boat, moved by the current, turned 
broadside on to the stream. 

" Keep her head to the stream," cried the pilot, 
sharply. "JEven supposing that we have no ambus- 



A DANGEKOUS PASS. 333 

cades to fear, the wind may, perhaps, have uprooted 
some dead tree, and should it happen to hit the side 
of our boat, it would cant over to a dead certainty ; 
but if we are struck on the bow, it may do us no harm. 
The tide runs up as far as this, and sharks not uncom- 
monly come up with it." 

This last observation disclosed another danger 
which I had not suspected ; and, in the presence of 
the increasing perils of this nocturnal expedition, I 
thought, with some bitterness, on the comfortable/ar- 
niente and refreshing sleep I should have enjoyed had 
I been in my hotel at Vera Cruz. 

Calros did not require a second warning, but re- 
sumed his oar with new vigor. We soon arrived at a 
place where a high rock on each side of the stream ap- 
proached each other, narrowing very considerably the 
bed of the river. About a dozen paces farther up, the 
passage became so contracted that both oars could not 
be worked, and it was only by the assistance of a boat- 
hook that the pilot, by fixing it among the lianas, 
could pull us up against the force of the current. The 
river widened considerably at the head of this narrow 
pass, and allowed us again to ply our oars ; but as 
the stream grew broader, the banks rose in proportion. 
On the right and left, high rocks curved gently in- 
ward, and then ran sheer down into the water, like the 
arch of a bridge broken at the key-stone. Under this 
vault every stroke produced an echo. We advanced 
by chance, and the darkness was so intense that we ' 
did not know but what every pull would send us up 
against the wall of rock on either side. 

" One would need to have the eyes of a tiger-cat to 
see in this place," cried the pilot. 

" Have we far to go now ?" asked Calros. 



334 THE BOAT SUDDENLY STOPS. 

"A few vigorous strokes will send us there," an- 
swered Ventura ; " but the most embarrassing thing 
is to discover the entrance to the narrow reach that 
runs up from this basin. This reach is as narrow as 
the one we have just left." 

" Put out the boat-hook to feel if we are not run- 
ning against the rocks." 

I did what he ordered me. The boat was still in 
the middle of the stream. The boat-hook, though 
stretched out as far as I could reach, struck against 
nothing. 

"All right," I cried. "I can touch the rocks on 
neither side." 

The rowers again plied their oars, and the light skiff 
flew up the river. All at once the boat-hook, which I 
was holding at right angles to the boat, hit against a 
rock, and bounced out of ray hands. The shock over- 
set me completely. A cracking of broken branches 
was heard. The skiff suddenly stopped. 

" What's this ?" cried the pilot, who had run to the 
bow, and was fumbling with his hands among a tan- 
gled mass of lianas and branches. " Demonio ! the 
rascals have pitched a dead tree into the river higher 
up, and the current has carried it down here. We 
can advance no farther. How shall we get out of this 
mess ? One or two large stones, hurled from the top 
of these rocks, might crush us to pieces before we could 
clear the passage." 

This took us completely aback, and not another 
word was said. The only plan seemed to be to re- 
turn to the reach we had just left ; but the boat was 
so strongly fixed among the branches of the fallen tree 
that it could not be disengaged. Some moments 
passed in a fruitless endeavor to overcome this obsta- 



WHO GOES THERE? THE PILOT DISAPPEARS. 335 

cle. Suddenly a voice called out right above us, 
"Who is there?" 

" Gente de paz,'''' I replied, prompted by the pilot. 

"That's not enough. There are three of you, and 
I must hear three voices." 

"Caramha! well," cried the Jarocho. "Tell Cam- 
pos that I am here — I, Calros Romero, of Manantial." 

"And ask him also," added the pilot, haughtily, 
" if he remembers the name of Sinforoso "Ventura, of 
Bocca del Rio." 

A shrill whistle was heard in the woods. It was 
repeated behind us, showing that both banks were 
guarded. Two or three seconds elapsed, that seemed 
as long as so many years. Shadowy forms appeared 
on the rocks above our heads, threatening cries were 
heard, and quivering lights danced upon the water. 
The pilot was not long in firing upon the scoundrels ; 
but they had the advantage in point of position, and 
wielded arms more terrible than ours. The flash of 
the gun lighted up all surrounding objects. Mean- 
while an enormous stone, which they had succeeded 
in moving to the edge of the rocks, fell close to the 
boat, and splashed us with water from head to foot. 
The pilot cried out as if he had been hurt. We felt 
the boat lurch under us heavily, and then, torn from~ 
the rude embrace of the branches, drift rapidly down 
the stream. When I opened my eyes, for we had 
been both blinded by the spray, Ventura had disap- 
peared. I called aloud several times. There was no 
reply. 

"'Tis all over with him!" cried Calros. "He is 
at the bottom of the river. We must see to ourselves 
now." 

A 'speedy retreat was the only chance of safety left 



336 ' VENTUKA REAPPEARS. 

US. The Jaroclio seized the oars and began rowing 
vigorously. Not a sound was heard but the dip of 
the oar in the water. Had our enemies retreated, or 
were they waiting for us at the narrow reach we must 
unavoidably pass ? We could not escape the fate that 
seemed to be awaiting us. We were soon in the dan- 
gerous pass. The trunk of a guaiacum or cedar hang- 
ing over the water-^the noise of the wind in their 
branches — an iguana leaving its bed of dry leaves — a 
squirrel frightened by the working of the oars — the 
slightest sound, or the least object that we saw, all 
kept our minds on the rack, and our hands on our 
arms. We stopped at short intervals, after which 
Calros resumed his oars with new ardor. 

We reached at last a spot where the vegetation was 
not so abundant, and one of the banks was destitute 
of wood. We landed there. A rapid survey con- 
vinced us that this was not the place for an ambus- 
cade. We decided to remain a short time to rest our- 
selves, and we should afterward consider whether to 
continue our journey by land or water. The sun was 
just beginning to make his appearance. What was 
our surprise, when, as we were about to throw our- 
selves upon the ground, we heard a voice calling to 
us ! The voice was that of our late companion Ven- 
tura. We thought at first that we were laboring un- 
der a hallucination ; but in a short time we could no 
longer doubt about the resurrection of our brave friend, 
who appeared on the opposite bank, waving his hand 
to invite us to carry him across. To cross the stream 
was with Calros the work of an instant. 

"And by what miracle are you still in this world ?" 
I asked of Ventura. " The cry of agony you uttered 
still rings in my ears." 



HOW THE PILOT ESCAPED. 337 

" That cry saved my life. As soon as I felt that 
we ran the risk of getting crushed to pieces without 
being able to defend ourselves, I jumped among the 
branches that stopped our passage, and, on seeing the 
immense stone which they had pushed into the river, 
I raised a great shriek. The rascals, fancying from 
the cry that I was mortally wounded, decamped as 
(juickly as they could. Once out of the water, I fol- 
lowed the course of the river, knowing that you could 
not be far off. I was right, as you see. We shall 
now resume our journey. As for you, Seiior Calros, 
who are so impatient to revenge yourself upon Cam- 
pos, I have hit on a more expeditious plan than the 
one we are now following. I have some friends in 
the village in which Campos lives. We shall go and 
visit them ; and in two hours all your wishes shall be 
fully satisfied." 

The arrival of the pilot had brought back to Cal- 
ros's mind all that boiling impatience which his ex- 
haustion of body had alone kept under. He would 
not listen to a halt. A short discussion then arose 
as to whether we should continue our journey by land 
or water. Ventura was of opinion that we ought still 
to make use of the boat and reascend the river, as we 
should probably fall in with no more enemies, and the 
force of the current had very likely removed all ob- 
stacles to our passage. We therefore took our places 
in the skiff without loss of time, Calros and Ventura 
pulling, and I between the two rowers, glad at finding 
that, from my inexperience in rowing, I should not be 
expected to give any assistance, and would be at full 
liberty to admire the glorious landscape that unfolded 
itself before our eyes, bathed in the first light of dawn. 

The river, so dark and sombre the night before, 
P 



338 CALROS FINDS A ElVAL IN JULIAN. 

seemed now to smile in the sunlight. Light vapors 
arose from the surface of the water, drawn up by the 
heat, which had taken the place of the coolness of the 
evening before. Numerous aquatic plants covered its 
surface, and the furrow which our boat cut in passing 
through them soon closed up again, leaving not a trace 
of our presence. No sound was heard save the work- 
ing of the oars in the row-locks, and a gi-een wood- 
pecker tapping with long, regular strokes the trunk of 
a dead tree. 

Mj companions were quite indifferent to the glori- 
ous beauty of this solitude. I must confess, however, 
that I allowed myself to be distracted from the con- 
templation of these charms to listen to the conversa- 
tion of the two men, which was becoming more and 
more animated. Besides relating the grievances which 
he had endured from Campos, the pilot, in the course 
of his narrative, caused a chord to vibrate in the heart 
of the chivalrous lover of Doiia Sacramenta. Calros 
was painfully surprised on learning that Julian, his 
antagonist in the fandango at Manantial, was his rival. 
Julian, being the pilot's friend, had no secrets from 
him. His passion for Sacramenta dated from the time 
when the parents of the young girl lived in another 
village called Medellin, before they had come to reside 
at Manantial. After the departure of Sacramenta for 
Manantial, Julian had not lost all hope of seeing her 
ngain, and of winning her affections. Old Josefa, the 
Avoman whose son Campos had killed, and who was 
seeking every where an avenger for her son's murder, 
had been often invited from Manantial to Medellin for 
tiie purpose of exercising the black art, in which she 
was considered an adept. It was through her that 
Julian received news of Sacramenta, and the old crone 



CALEOS IS DECEIVED. oiiD 

had even promised to exert her influence with the girl 
in his favor, if he succeeded in putting her on the 
traces of her son's murderer. This coridition Julian 
had been able to fulfill through the friendship of the 
pilot, as the latter, by his ancient relations with Cam- 
pos, was well aware of all this wretch's crimes. Julian 
had thus informed her that Campos was her son's mur- 
derer, and that the pilot Ventura would lend her a hand 
in securing him. Josefa had, on her side, kept her 
word. She had used all her influence with Sacra- 
menta in Julian's favor, "and was successful," said the 
pilot, with an arch smile, " since the amorous Jarocho 
had been invited to attend the fete of Manantial by 
the young girl herself, to challenge, in her honor, the 
bravest champion in the village." The pilot did not 
know that the old crone Josefa, in her eagerness to 
have her son avenged, had likewise excited the pas- 
sion of Calros, in order that she might make him more 
eager in the search after Campos. Calros and I could 
alone complete the revelations of Ventura. I did not 
say a single word, however, because I feared to excite 
the Jarocho's jealousy still more by untimely consola- 
tion, and because I knew that his soul was torn by 
violent and contending emotions. The pilot, seeing 
us both sunk in thought, turned to Calros and said, 

" Now, when I think of it, it was you that chal- 
lenged my friend Julian. It was you that was victor 
in the combat held in honor of the fair Sacramenta. 
Well, shall I tell you ? Julian confessed to me that, 
even after his defeat, he had not entirely lost hope ; so 
much so that he is talking about quitting Medellin, 
and you will perhaps see him some of tliese days qui- 
etly settled in Manantial." 

"Are you sure of wh'at you say?" asked Calros, in 
an altered tone. 



340 MY host's despaie. 

"Has my good friend Julian ever deceived me?" 
answered the pilot. " Trust me, he is not a man that 
is under the influence of illusions. If he never come 
to Manantial, it is because he will have the best of 
reasons for staying away." 

This was rather much, and Calros asked him no 
more questions. With eyes fixed mechanically on the 
water around him, the poor fellow plied his oar with a 
kind of feverish energy. His body was with us, but 
his mind had fled away to the woods of Manantial. 

We had now gone as far as we could on the river, 
which had now dribbled down to a mere streamlet, 
flowing between low banks. Upon one side fields of 
green sugar-cane, waving in the wind, stretched to the 
foot of a chain of hills which rose at a short distance 
from the stream. 

" We must land here," cried the pilot : " the village 
is behind these hills." 



CHAPTEE IV. 

The Duel. — Awful Death of the Murderer. 

We leaped ashore. The pilot tied the " dingy" to 
the bank, and led the advance. We soon reached the 
village. All was quiet there. The greater part of 
the inhabitants were still in their hammocks under the 
verandas of their cabins, but they saluted the pilot as 
he approached with the greeting of an old acquaintance. 
After replying briefly to the questions that were put 
to him, Ventura asked where Campos was. He point- 
ed to Calros, and explained why he had come thither. 
This news was welcomed witK enthusiasm by the idle 



CAMPOS THE MUEDEEER. 341 

and pugnacious peasants ; but in a diversion in which 
there was so much interest, the greatest secresy must 
be employed, and every one rivaled his neighbor in 
discretion. The hut of Campos was noiselessly ap- 
proached, and he was found inside stretched in his 
hammock. I could not help admiring the rare com- 
mand of countenance which this man showed when he 
saw the pilot, whom he believed to be lying at that 
moment at the bottom of the neighboring river. He 
rose quietly, looked at us with a disdainful curiosity, 
and did not appear to be moved at seeing Calros. 

" Who put you on my traces ?" he asked of the Ja- 
rocho. 

" Tia Josefa," was the reply. " It was by her or- 
der I came here from Manantial." 

"A w^ord is enough to the wise," answered Campos. 
"It is well ; I am ready for you." 

The conditions of the duel were immediately dis- 
cussed, with a calmness and dignity which I did not 
expect in two such adversaries. Neither Calros nor 
the pilot deigned to make the slightest allusion to the 
events of last night. It was a duel to the death which 
was to be fought, and at such a solemn moment all re- 
crimination was reckoned silly and trifling. The place 
of meeting was mutually agreed on ; and Campos left 
to procure his seconds, while we directed our steps 
thither. I walked behind Calros, silent and sorrowful. 

" Whatever happen," said he to me, in a low voice, 
" whether I fall or remain alive, in any case, you will 
have no message to deliver to her from me." 

After walking about half an hour on a footpath that 
ran at right angles with the river, we arrived at the 
edge of one of those marshy ponds so common in cer- 
tain parts of Mexico. On one side was a clump of 



342 THE COMBAT BEGINS. CAMPOS BDEIED ALIVE. 

trees, and on the other rose lofty hillocks of fine mov- 
ing sand, which was gradually filling up the lagoon bj 
its ceaseless shifting. We there waited the arrival 
of Campos and his seconds. Calros strode over the 
ground, a prey to feverish anxiety, for the Jarocho was s 
not one of those lackadaisical lovers who rush out of 
life the first check they receive. The ground meas- 
ured, and the situation chosen, the antagonists stood 
face to face. The signal was given ; and I heard, with 
a beating heart, the clash of the two swords. I had 
turned my head away ; but, hearing a cry of rage, I 
was drawn irresistibly to cast a look upon the com- 
batants. A man had run to the top of one of the sand- 
hills; he brandished the stump of a machete, and blood 
was trickling down his side : this was Campos. His 
flight had been so sudden and rapid that his adversa- 
ry was still immovable in his place. One of his sec- 
onds approached to hand him a sword in the place of 
the one that had been broken, but he came too late. 
Exhausted by the effort he had made in clambering up 
the hill, Campos staggered and fell upon the sand. 
For a moment we thought he would have kept himself 
on the mound, but the movable substance rolled away 
from beneath him, and the unhappy wretch, after strug- 
gling fearfully for a few moments, rolled down into the 
marsh, and was ingulfed alive in an avalanche of sand. 
Nothing now remained but to secure the flight of 
Calros. We left in all haste the scene of action, and 
arrived at the boat before the alcalde of the village had 
detached a single alguazil in pursuit. Aided by the 
current, the light skiff glided like an arrow down the 
stream, the trees and rocks seeming to fly behind us. 
After a two hours' row, we reached the mouth of the 
river, and landed under the willows which overshadow- 



CALEOS AND I PART. M'd 

ed the pilot's abode. We required liis services no far- 
ther, and therefore bade hira adieu. Before parting, 
he tried to induce Calros to stay with him. 

" I was looking out for a brave and resolute fellow 
to make a man of him like myself. I have found one 
in you. The sea-shore is preferable to the woods. It 
is to enrich the dweller on the coast that the norther 
blows three months every year. Remain with me ; 
you will be rich in that time." 

But a complete dejection now possessed the mind 
of the Jarocho ; he shook his head moodily in token 
of refusal. 

" Well, I am sorry for it," said the pilot. " I shall 
always miss a comrade who can handle an oar as well 
as a machete. We two could have done a good stroke 
of business together. Good-by, then ; every one must 
follow his destiny." 

We parted, and I accompanied Calros to the hut 
where he had left his horse. Some wood-cutters, dur- 
ing my absence, had found my hack a short way o& 
in the woods. 

" I must bid you farewell here," said Calros. "You 
will soon see your native land, and I — " 

He left the sentence unfinished ; I finished it in 
thought, and pressed him to return to Manantial. I 
attempted also, but in vain, to prove to Calros that his 
despair was at least premature. 

" The words of the pilot," he replied, " agree but 
too well with a voice that has been incessantly calling 
to me, ' Sacramenta never loved you.' " 

"But," I answered, "if you intend to bid an eter- 
nal farewell to your mother and the village in which 
Sacramenta lives, why did you refuse the offer of the 
pilot ? Your Jife would then have some definite aim." 



344 I BID ADIEU TO MEXICt). 

"That's of no consequence. The Jarocho is born 
to live free and independent. A bamboo hut, the 
woods and the river, a gun and nets, are all that is 
necessary for him, and these I shall find every where. 
Farewell, seiior ; don't tell any body that you saw me 
weep like a woman." 

Pulling his hat over his eyes, Calros gave the spur 
to his horse. It was not without a lively sympathy 
that I followed with my eye the retiring figure of one 
whose exalted passion and adventurous humor had 
shown the character of the Jarocho in the most pleas- 
ing light. I had to gain Vera Cruz on foot this time, 
as my horse had lost both saddle and bridle. I drag- 
ged him along, however, with a halter behind me. Op- 
pressed by heat and thirst, I stopped at a hut by the 
way-side, and the host accepted of the poor brute in 
compensation for the refreshment with which he had 
supplied me. 

Two days afterward I embarked on board the good 
ship Congress for the United States. I could not 
leave Mexico without regret, for the society to be found 
in that country had for me all the attraction of a ro- 
mance, with every particular of which I had a strong 
desire to become acquainted. 



THE END. 



A LIST OF NEW BOOKS, 

PUBLISHED BY 

HARPER &, BROTHERS. 



Squier's Central America. 

Notes on Central America ; parcicularly the States of Honduras 
and San Salvador: their Geographj^^ Topography, Climate, Pop- 
ulation, Resources, Productions, <fec., <fec., and the proposed In- 
teroceanic Railway. By E. G. Squier, formerly Gharge d' Af- 
faires of the United States to the Republics of Central America. 
With Original Maps and Illustrations. 8vo, Muslin, $2 00- 

Napoleon at St. Helena ; 

Or, Interesting Anecdotes and Remarkable Conversations of the 
Emperor during the Five and a Half Yeai's of his Captivity. 
Collected from the Memorials of Las Casas, O'Meara, Montholon, 
Antomraarchi, and others. By John S. C. Abbott. "With Illus- 
trations. 8vo, Muslin, $2 50. 

Helps's Spanish Conquest. 

The Spanish Conquest in America, and its Relatiou to the His- 
tory of Slavery, and to the Government of Colonies. By Arthur 
Helps. Large 12mo, Muslin. {In press.) 

Loomis's Arithmetic. 

A Treatise on Arithmetic, Theoretical and Practical. By Elias 
LooMrs, LL.D. 12 mo, Sheep. 

Barton's Grammar. 

An Outline of the General Principles of Grammar. "With a Brief 
Exposition of the Chief Idiomatic Peculiai-ities of the Englisli 
Language. To which Questions have been added. Edited and 
Enlarged by the Rev. J. Graeff Barton, A.M., Professor of the 
English Language and Literature in the New York Free Acad- 
emy. 16mo, Muslin, 37^ cents. 

Ewbank's Brazil. 

Life in Brazil ; or, a Journal of a Visit to the Land of the Cocoa 
and the Palm. With an Appendix, containing Illustrations of 
Ancient South American Arts, in Recently Discovered Imple- 
ments and Products of Domestic Industry, and Works in Stone, 
Pottery, Gold, Silver, Bronze, <fec. By Thomas Ewbank. With 
over 100 Illustrations. 8vo, Muslin, $2 00. 



NEW BOOKS PUBLISHED BY HARPER AND BROTHERS. 

Mexico and its Religion ; 

Or, Incideuts of Travel iu that Country during Parts of the Years 
1851-52-53-54, with Historical Notices of Events connected with 
Places Visited. By Robekt A- Wilson. With Illustrations. 

12ino, Muslin, $1 00. 

Parisian Siglits 

and French Principles, seen through American Spectacles. By 
James Jackson Jarves. Second Series. With Illustrations. 
12mo, Muslin, $1 00. 

Italian Sights. 

and Papal Principles, seen through American Spectacles. By 
James Jackson Jaeves. With Illustrations. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00. 

Art-Hints. 

Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting. By James Jackson Jartes. 
12mo, Muslin, $1 25. 

Christian Theism ; 

The Testimony of Reason and Revelation to the Existence of the 
Supreme Being. By Hobeet Anchor Thompson, M.A. (The First 
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Muslin, $1 25. 

A Child's History of the United States. 

By John Bonnee. 2 vols. 16mo, Muslin, $1 00. (Uniform with 
Dickens's " Child's History of England.) 



Lily, 



A NoveL By the Author of " The Busy Moments of an Idle 
Woman." 12mo, Muslin, $1 00. 

James's Old Dominion. 

The Old Dominion ; or, the Southampton Massacre. By G. P. 
- R. James, Esq. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents. 

Miss Bunkley's Book. 

The Testimony of an Escaped Novice from the Sisterhood of St. 
Joseph, Emmettsburg, Maryland, the Mother-House of the Sisters 
of Charity in the United States. By JosEPmNE M. Bunkley. 
12mo, Muslin, $1 00. 

Learning to Talk ; 

Or, Entertaining and Instructive Lessons in the Use of Language. 
By Jacob Abbott. Illustrated with 170 Engravings. Small 4to, 
Muslin, 50 cents. 



HARPER'S NEW CLASSICAL LIBRARY. 

Reprinted from " Bohn's Classical Library." Comprising Literal 
Translations of the principal Greek and Latin Authors. 

The works which it is proposed to issue are reprint's from " Bohn's 
Classical Ltbrauy," brought out uniform with the English edition, 
and comprising faithful translations of the principal Greek and 
Latin classics. 

Each work will be given without abridgment, and will include 
short suggestive notes, adapted to the comprehension as well as 
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without ample and thorough revision, correcting its errors by the 
lights of modern research, and placing it on a level with the pres 
ent improved state of philological learning. 

The following Volumes will be succeeded by others as fast as 
tbey can be got ready. 



C^SAR, Complete, with the Alexan- 
drian, African, and Spanish Wars, lit- 
erally translated. With Notes, and a 
very copious Index. 12mo, Muslin, 
75 cents. 

DAVIDSON'S VIRGIL. Revised by 
T. A. Buckley. 12mo, Muslin, 75 
cents. 

SMART'S HORACE. RevisedbyT. 
A.BucKLBY. 12mo, Muslin, 75 cents. 

WATSON'S SALLUST, FLORUS, 
and VELLEIUS PATERCULUS. 

I2mo, Muslin, 75 cents. 

EDMONDS CICERO. Cicero's Of- 
fices, Old Age, Friendship, Scipio's 
Dream, Paradoxes, <fcc. 12mo, Mus- 
lin, 75 cents. 

YONGE'S CICERO. The Orations 
contained in the Text-Books used in 
the Schools and Colleges of America. 
12mo, Muslin, 75 cents. 



WATSON'S XENOPHON. TheAn- 
abasis and Memorabilia of Socrates. 
With a Geographical Commentary by 
W. F. AiNswoRTH, Esq. 12mo, Mus- 
lin, 75 cents. 

BUCKLEY'S HOMER'S ILIAD. 
12rno, Muslin, 75 cents. 

DALE'S THUCYDIDES. 12mo,Mus- 
lin, 75 cents. (Bohn's Edition, 2 vols. 
$1 75. 

GARY'S HERODOTUS. Complete 
in one Volume. With Index. I2mo, 
Muslin, 75 cents. 

SOPHOCLES. The Oxford Transla- 
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Muslin, 75 cents. 

/ESCHYLUS. By an Oxonian. Re- 
vised by Buckley. 12mo, Muslin, 75 
cents. With an Appendix, containing 
all of Hermann's Emendations, trans- 
lated and explained by Burges. (Not 
contained in Bohn's Volume.) 12mo, 
Mushn. 



MAYHEW'S WONDERS OF SCIENCE. The Wonders of Science; or, 
Young Humphry Davy (the Cornish Apothecary's Boy, who taught himself 
Natural Ph'losophy, and eventually became President of the Royal Society). 
The Life of a Wonderful Boy written for Boys. By Henry Mayhew, Au- 
thor of " The Peasant-Boy Philosopher." 16mo, Muslin. 



LOSSING'S PICTORIAL FIELD-BOOK 

Of the Revolution ; or, Illustrations, by Pen .ind Pencil, of the His- 
tory, Biography, Scenery, Relics, and Traditions of the War 
for Independence. 2 vols. Royal 8vo, Muslin, $8 00; Sheep, 
$9 00; Half Calf, $10 00; Full Morocco, $15 00. 
A new and carefully revised edition of this magnificent work is just completed 
in two imperial octavo volumes of equal size, containing 1500 pages and 1100 en- 
gravings. As the plan, scope, and beauty of the work were originally developed, 
eminent literary men, and the leading presses of the United States and Great 
Britain, pronounced it one of the most valuable historical productions ever issued. 
The preparation of this work occupied the author more than four years, during 
which he traveled nearly ten thousand miles in order to visit the prominent scenes 
of revolutionary history, gather up local traditions, and explore records and his- 
tories. In the use of his pencil he was governed by the determination to withhold 
nothing of importance or interest. Being himself both artist and writer, he has 
been able to combine the materials he had collected in both departments into a 
work possessing perfect unity of purpose and execution. 

The object of the author in arranging his plan was to reproduce the history of 
the American Revolution in such an attractive manner, as to entice the youth of 
his country to read the wonderful story, study its philosophy and teachings, and 
to become familiar with the founders of our Republic and the value of their labors. 
In this he has been eminently successful ; for the young read the pages of the 
''Field-Book" with the same avidity as those of a romance; while the abundant 
stores of information, and the careful manner in which ii has been arranged and 
sec forth, render it no less attractive to the general reader and the ripe scholar of 
more mature years. 

Explanatory notes are profusely given upon every page in the volume, and also 
a brief biographical sketch of every man distinguished in the events of the Revo, 
lution, the history of whose life is known. 

A Supplement of forty pages contains a history of the Naval Operations of the 
Revolution ; of the Diplomacy ; of the Confederation ar.d Federal Constitution ; 
the Prisons and Prison Ships of New York ; Lives of the Sig7iers oj the Declara- 
tion of Independence, and other matters of curious interest to the historical student. 
A new and very elaborate analytical index has been prepared, to which we call 
special attention. It embraces eighty-five closely printed pages, and possesses 
rare value for every student of our revolutionary history. It is in itself a com- 
plete synopsis of the history and biography of that period, and will be found ex- 
ceedingly useful for reference by every reader. 

As a whole, the work contains all the essential facts of the early history of our 
Republic, which are scattered through scores of volumes often inaccessible to the 
great mass of readers. The illustrations make the whole subject of the American 
Revolution so clear to the reader that, on rising from its perusal, he feels thorough- 
ly acquainted, not only with the history, but with every important locality made 
memorable by the events of the war for Independence, and it forms a complete 
Guide-Book to the tourist seeking for fields consecrated by patriotism, which lie 
scattered over our broad land. Nothing has been spared to make it complete, re. 
liable,"and eminently useful to allclasses of citizens. Upv.ard of THIRTY-FIVE 
THOUSAND DOLLARS were expended in the publication of the first edition. 
The exquisite wood-cuts, engraved under the immediate supervision of the author, 
from his own drawings, in the highest style of the art, required the greatest care 
in printing. To this end the efforts of the publ shers have been directed, and we 
take great pleasure in presenting these volumes as the best specimen of typogra- 
phy ever issued froni the American press. 

The publication of the work having been comniencod in numbers before its 
preparation was completed, the volumes of the first ed;t on were made quite un- 
equal in size. That defect has been remedied, and the work is now presented in 
two volumes of equal size, containing about 7S0 pages each. 



WOMAN 8 RECORD 



Or, Sketches of all Distinguished Women from the Creation to the 
Present Time. An-anged in Four Eras. With Selections from 
Female Writers of each Era. By Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale. 
Illustrated with 230 engraved Portraits. Second Edition, re- 
vised and enlari^ed. Eoyal 8vo, Muslin, $3 50 ; Sheep, $4 00; 
Half Calf, |4 25. 

" Many years have been devoted to the preparation of this comprehensive work, 
wliich contains complete and accurate sketches of the most distinguished women 
in all ages, and, in extent and thoroughness, far surpasses every previous bio- 
graphical collection with a similar aim. Mrs. Hale has ransacked the treasures 
of history for information in regard to the eminent women whom it commemor- 
ates ; few, if any, important names are omitted in her volumes, while the living 
celebrities of the day are portrayed with justness and delicacy. The picture of 
woman's life, as it has beun developed from the times of the earliest traditions to 
the present date, is here displayed in vivid and impressive colors, and with a 
living sympathy which could only flow from a feminine pen. A judicious selec- 
tion from the writings of women who have obtained distinction in the walks of 
literature is presented, alTording an opportunity for comfarin? the noblest produc- 
tions of the female mind, and embracing many e.\quisite gems of fancy and feel- 
ing. The biographies are illustrated by a series of highly-finished engravings, 
which form a gallery of portraits of curious interest to the amateur, as well as of 
great historical value. 

This massive volume furnishes an historical portrait gallery, in which each age 
of this world had its appropriate representatives. Mrs. Hale has succeeded ad- 
mirably in her biographical sketches. — Philadelphia Presbyterian. 

" Woman's Record" is, indeed, a noble study and noble history. The sketches 
are all carefully and even elegantly written. — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 

What lady, who takes a jjride in her sex, would not desire to have this volume 
on her centre-table ? and what husband, lover, or brother would leave such a wish 
ungratified. — Washington Rrpiiblic. 

This superb monument of Mrs. Hale's indefatigable devotion to her sex is illus- 
trated by 230 portraits, engraved in that style of excellence that has deservedly 
placed Lossing-at the he;i 1 of his profession. — Philadelphia Saturday Courier. 

We are pleased with the plan of the " Record," and with the manner in which 
th:it plan is carried into execution. The book is a valuable and permanent con- 
tribution to literature. — iVeic Orleans Baptist Chronicle. 
This work merits the warmest commendation. — Sun. 

This is a large and beautiful book, and covers the ground marked out by the title 
more fully and satisfactorily than any other work extant. It is a most valuable 
work. — Southern Ladies' Co?npanion. 

Here we have placed before us a book that would do credit to any author or 
compiler that ever lived, and, to the astonishment of some, produced by the head, 
heart, and hand of a woiniin. — N. Y. Daily Times. 

This is a very curious and very interesting work — a Biographical Dictionary of 
all Distinguished Females— a work, we believe, quite unique in the history of 
literature. We have only to say that the work will be found both instructive, 
amusing, and generally impartial. — London Ladies' Messenger. 

The comprehensiveness of the work renders it a valuable addition to the library. 
— London Ladies' Companion. 

A Female Biographical Dictionary, which this volume really is, will often b« 
consulted as an authority ; and the great extent of Mrs. Hale's information as to 
the distinguished women of modern times, supplies us with a number of fa>*-^ 
which we knew not where to procure elsewhere. It is clearly and eimrly written. 
—London Gardian 



HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 

Each Number of the Magazine will contain 144 octavo pages, in double col- 
umns, each year thus comprising nearly two thousand pages of the choicest Mis- 
cellaneous Literature of the day. Every number will contain numerous Pictorial 
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Events, and impartial Notices of the important Books of the Month. The Vol- 
umes commence with the Numbers for June and December ; but Subscriptions 
may commence with any number. 

Terms. — The Magazine may be obtained of Booksellers, Periodical Agents, or 
from the Publishers, at Three Dollars a year, or Twenty-five Cents a 
Number. The Semi-Annual Volumes, as completed, neatly bound in Cloth, are 
sold at Two Dollars each, and Muslin Covers are furnished to those who wish to 
have their back Numbers uniformly bound, at Twenty-five Cents each. Eleven 
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The Publishers will supply Specimen Numbers gratuitously to Agents and 
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or five persons at Ten Dollars. Clergymen supplied at Two Dollars a year. 
Numbers from the commencement can now be supplied. 

The Magazine weighs over seven ana not over eight ounces. The Postage upon 
each Number, which must be paid quarterly in advance, is Three Cents. 

The Publishers would give notice that that they have no Agents 
for whose contracts they are responsible. Those ordering the Mag- 
azine from Agents or Dealers must look to them for the supply of the 
Work. 

Each month it gladdens us and our household, to say nothing of the neighbors 
who enjoy it with us. Twenty-five cents buys it — the cheapest, richest, and most 
lasting lu.xury for the money that we know. Three dollars secures it for one 
year : and what three dollars ever went so far ? Put the same amount in clothes, 
eating, drinking, furniture, and how much of a substantial thing is obtained ? If 
ideas, facts, and sentiments, have a monetary value — above all, if the humor that 
refreshes, the pleasantries that bring a gentle smile, and brighten the passage of 
a truth to your brain, and the happy combination of the real and the imaginative, 
without which no one can live a life above the animal, are to be put in the scale 
opposite to dollars and cents, then you may be certain, that if Harper were three' 
or four times as dear, it would amply repay its price. It is a Magazine proper, 
with the idea and purpose of a Magazine — not a book, not a scientific periodical, 
nor yet a supplier of light gossip and chatty anecdotes — hut a Magazine that takes 
every form of interesting, dignified, and attractive literature in its grasp. — South- 
ern Times. 

Its success was rapid, and has continued till the monthly issue has reached the 
unprecedented number of 150,000. The volumes bound constitute of themselves 
a library of miscellaneous reading, such as can not be found in the same compass 
in any other publication that has come under our notice. The contents of the 
Magazine are as "various as the mind of man." In the immense amount of mat- 
ter which it contains, it would be strange, indeed, if there was noX. somelhing to 
gratify every taste. The articles illustrating the natural history and resources 
of our country are enough to entitle the Magazine to a place in every family where 
there are children to be taught to love their native land. The Editor's Table pre- 
sents every month an elaborately prepared essay on some topic intimately con- 
nected with our politics, our morals, or our patriotism, while the Easy Chair and 
the Drawer of the same responsible per.^onasc— doubtless a plural ?4wi<- display 
gems of wit, humor, and fancy, In any (juantity to suit the temper of any reader 
— Boston Courier 



HARPER'S STORY BOOKS. 

A Monthly Series of Narratives, BioGRAPmEs, and Tales, foi' the 
Instructioa and Entertainment of the Young. By Jac<jb Ab- 
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Terms. — Each Number of " Harper's Story Books" will contain 
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The Series may be obtained of Booksellers, Periodical Agents. 
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and " Harper's Story Books" will be sent to one Address, for one 
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The Quarterly Volumes, as completed, neatly bound in Cloth gilt, 
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those who wish to have their back Numbers uniformly bound, at 
Twenty-five Cents each. 

Vol. I. Contains the first three Numbers, " Bruno,"' "Willie," 
and "Strait Gate." — ^Vol. II. "The Little Louvre," "Prank," and 
"Emma." — Vol. III. "Virginia," "Timboo and Joliba," and "Tim- 
boo and Fanny." — ^Vol. IV. "The Harper Establishment," "Frank- 
lin," and "The Studio." 

They are the best children's hooks ever published. They wisely avoid the in- 
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may unhesitatingly place in their children's hands. The price is niarvelously 
low. Twenty-five cents a number makes it about six pages of print and two ex- 
cellent engravings for eace cent of the money. The engravings alone, without a 
line of letter-press, would be cheap at the price. One good thing these Story Books 
will certainly accomplish : henceforth inferior authorship and used-up, worn out 
illustrations can not be palmed off on children. They have samples here of what 
is best for them, and they are shrewd enough not to put up with any thing of low- 
er quality. — N. Y. Daily Times. 

We have heard so many fathers and mothers who recognize the pleasant duty 
of guiding the minds of their children in the paths of knowledge at home, speak 
in terms of the highest commendation of this series of books for children, that we 
feel a desire to see them universally read among children. They constitute the 
finest series of books for the young that we have seen. — Louisville Courier. 

Who is better qualified than Jacob Abbott to prepare such a work 1 He always 
seems to have an intuitive perception of just what children want— just what will 
take with them, and so serve as the medium of conveying instruction in the pleas- 
antest form. He has begun this new series admirably, and we almost envy the 
relish with which our children will read it. Now for a suggestion to parents : 
instead of buying your boy some trumpery toy, give him a yearns subscription to 
this charming monthly. It will cost you three dollars, indeed ; but its excellent 
moral hints and influence, its useful and entertaining knowledge, are worth all 
that, and much more If you think you can not (ifford it for one child, take it for 
your children's home circle, and let one read it alnnd to tlir others. You'll never 
I'^'sret M.—Chrisfinv Inquirer 



BUNGENER'S COUNCIL OF TRENT. 

llistory of tlie Council of Trent From the French of L. F. Bunge- 
NER, Author of " The Priest and the Huguenot." Edited, from 
the Second English Edition, by John M'Clintock, D.D. 12mo, 
Muslin, $1 00. 

Most persons know that the Council of Trent was a product of tlie Reforma- 
tion, but comparatively few, we suspect, know much about its history. Those 
who wish to know (and it is a matter worth knowing) will find ample means of 
ialormation in this volume. * * * He (the author) is clear in statement, subtle 
;ifid consecutive in his logic, and steers as far from dullness as from sourness.— 
Pertliakire Advertiser. 

It is all that a history should be— perspicuous in language, discriminating in 
detail, dignified and philosophical in manner, candid and faithful in the narration 
of facts, and bears evident traces of extensive reading and enlarged information. 
— Caledonian Meecury. 

This- history is invaluable. — Christian Advocate. 

Characterized by clearness, truthfulness, and vigor in the narrative, acuteness 
;ii]d terseness in the reasoning, and a spirit of Christian fidelity and charity. — 
Watchman. 

The work before us is undoubtedly one of the very best that has appeared on 
the subject. The writer has abundant materials, and has usedAhem with fidelity, 
impartiality, and talent. His brilliant style radiates in every department of the 
work. — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 

A work of permanent interest, which should be well understood by the ministry 
ct'our church and country. — Christian Observer. 

It is adapted for popular reading ; while, as a true portraiture of men and things 
in the Council, it is invaluable to the theologian. — Christian Intelligencer. 



MEXICO AND ITS RELIGION; 

Oi*, Incidents of Travel in that Country during Parts of the Years 
1851-52-53-54, with Historical Notices of Events connected 
with Places Visited. By Robert A. "Wixson. Wiih Illustra- 
tions. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00. 
This is a record of recent travel in various parts of Mexico, including full sta- 
tistical details, historical reminiscences and legends, and descriptions of society, 
manners, and .scenery. A large portion is devoted to the influence of the Catholic 
Cliurch, and relates many piquant narratives in illustration of the subject. The 
author writes in a lively, graphic, and, sometimes, humorous style. He gives a 
great deal of valuable information, and his travels can not fail to find numerous 
roaders and prove a most popular volume. 



SEYMOUR'S JESUITS. 

Mornings among the Jesuits at Rome. Being Notes of Conversa 
tions held with certain Jesuits on the Subject of Religion in the 
City of Rome. By Rev. M. Hobaet Skt.mow;, M.A. 12mc, 
Muslin, 15 cents. 



-$^. 



